My Richard
by Simon920
Summary: Dick Grayson has a stalker.
1. Default Chapter

Title: My Richard. Part one

Author: Simon

Characters: Dick

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Dick receives an upsetting letter

Warnings: None

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Feedback: Hell, yes. 

"**My Richard"**

**Part One**

It had been another double shift today, starting at 7 am, which meant that he'd had to be up at five-thirty to shower, shave and get to the station on time. It was almost eleven at night and Dick was just now unlocking the front door of the building he lived in. He was beat, whipped, exhausted.

This was the fourth day in a row he'd pulled a double, but the president had been in town and then there were the protests down at the park and after that there was that dockworker's strike followed by the terrorists threats so they'd had to beef up the security around the train station and the airport—the last few days had been a complete and total bitch and he was as happy as he was capable of that tomorrow he wasn't due in until four in the afternoon.

He was hungry, too, but he knew he was too tired to do anything about it and he didn't even care.

So far today he'd alternated between working crowd control and riding in the squad car for almost nine hours, led a class of third graders on a tour of the station house and done more paperwork than should be legal—without making more than a small dent in the pile.

His back ached, his head hurt, his stomach was growling and he knew there was nothing in his fridge other than some bottled water and maybe some left over take out that was so old he was afraid to even look at it. Eleven o'clock. No place worth ordering from was still delivering.

Well...hell.

He climbed up the stairs, wishing that there were an elevator so he could stop moving under his own power. The hall light was out—he'd have to mention it to Clancy in the morning. Inserting his key and pushing his door opened, he clicked on the light and only then saw the bag when the too bright spill made it obvious before he kicked the thing.

Leaning against his front door, it had a take out menu stapled to it, it smelled like Chinese and he thanked whatever God—or friend of his—who had the kindness to bring him dinner. It was even still hot.

General Tso, fried rice and an egg roll, it was heaven. Greasy, but exactly what he'd been craving and it was even from Number One, the best Chinese food around.

He tossed his jacket on the end of the couch, toed his shoes off and after loosening his tie, sat down and ate the entire contents with the plastic utensils provided. God it was good.

Fifteen minutes later he was in bed. The next thing he was aware of was light coming through his dirty bedroom window and the particular sound of stillness in his apartment that only happened when everyone else has left for work and he was probably the only person in the building. Looking at the bed stand he blinked at the fact that it was almost two in the afternoon.

When was the last time he'd slept that long? He had no idea, but truth be known, he could just as easily rollover for another couple of hours.

No. Couldn't do it. Not today, not right now. This weekend he could sleep as long as he wanted and he dangled that as a carrot for himself as he tried to talk himself into getting up. Saturday he could sleep in. Sunday he could sleep in as well. They weren't that far away. He could do this.

He lounged another ten minutes then made his way, naked, into the bathroom. A few minutes after that he was showered, slightly more awake and surprised by the rubble of his dinner.

He'd forgotten about it, forgotten it had been there and forgotten that he'd even eaten—which led him to the fact that he was hungry again. The Chinese had been fourteen hours ago and as he started to clear the containers and see what, if anything, he could find for his breakfast, he tried to figure out who had done him the favor.

The thought that his life was becoming a ride on a treadmill passed through his mind.

One of his Titan friends? Unlikely. They were all busy and they had no way of knowing that he was close to being overwhelmed. It's not like they talked on the phone every day or anything.

Barbara? That was a long shot at best. She was more likely to just tell him to stop at her place and feed him herself. Besides, she would have had to get someone to carry it up to the third floor and that would have turned the operation into a production...no, not Barbara.

Bruce or Alfred? Bruce, not a chance. Alfred giving him take out? Not in this lifetime. Besides, Alf had a key. He would have left the perfectly prepared homemade whatever on the counter with a note or, more likely, waited to serve it himself along with a lecture about taking better care of himself.

Clancy. It had to be Clancy.

She had been sympathizing about his schedule and asking if she could help. Sure he knew she had a crush on him and he knew she was trying to get him to notice her—which he already had—and it was the sort of thing she might do.

Clancy. Yup, that was it, had to be her.

Good. Mystery solved. He'd thank her on his way out.

He knocked on Clancy's door as he left and got no answer. Well, fine, he'd catch her on the way back in. Maybe. He wouldn't be back until one in the morning at the earliest. Well, he'd thank her when he could.

The blur of recent days continued and if he hadn't known how shorthanded the force was, he would have called in sick just because he knew he was close to simply falling over. He didn't, of course, and pushing himself hard he made it through to the end of the week. He caught some more sleep over the weekend and rested enough so that he could do some laundry, take an hour to resupply his kitchen. It wasn't that he minded cooking. It was just that he knew he completely sucked at it and had absolutely no interest in learning. It occurred to him that he should do something about that but mentally shrugged and let it slide like he usually did. Stouffers made some really good stuff and Alfred could usually be counted on in a pinch.

The mail had piled up, too and he grimaced slightly as he sat down with the bowl of pasta and a reheated pot of some of Alfred's alfredo sauce and started to sort through the foot high pile that had accumulated.

Most of it was junk mail; there were a few magazines, some bills—just the usual. A post card from Donna and Roy, written by Donna, of course, from some place in Hawaii they'd gone for a few weeks. There was a belated birthday card from the aunt he saw maybe once every couple of years and there were a bunch of menus from local places hoping to drum up business.

And there was a familiar pale pink envelope with the familiar handwriting that made him stop the fork half way to his mouth.

Christ, how the hell had she found him this time after almost three years? He'd thought that this was over and done with, that he'd managed to put an end to it and here it was again.

Goddamnit.

He debated a few seconds about whether or not to even open the thing but gave in, even though he knew what it would say even as he slit the top the envelope. They all said the same thing, there were just variations on the theme. The postmark was from a week ago.

_**Dear Richard,**_

_**It's been so long since I've written to you. I've left you alone just like you asked, but I'm hoping enough time has gone by that you aren't still angry with me. I want you to know that despite what happened three years ago, not a single day has passed that I haven't thought about you.**_

_**I've felt so badly about how it ended between us. I never wanted what we had together to disintegrate into what it did and I know that it was largely my fault. You were so wonderfully kind to me and so patient after the way I acted that I was too embarrassed to contact you before this about everything. I said things to you that I know hurt you—and you have to know that was never my intent.**_

_**The things I said to you and about you in front of all those people—there's no excuse for them and I know that. I was upset, yes, but there was still no reason for what I said or for what I did. **_

_**You were right to be angry with me. You were. I would understand if you still are, though I hope you'll give me just the chance to tell you in person how desperately sorry I am.**_

_**I was wrong. I know that and I think I even knew it at the time, but I was so terribly hurt by everything that it all just happened. **_

_**I know, I can see your face as you read that. I can see you shaking your head and that small frown you have when you don't like some piece of news you've just received, but I also know that you'll think about letting me make it right between us.**_

_**It was good, wasn't it?—before the unpleasantness began and it became ugly and painful? It could be good again, like it was when were we happy.**_

_**I don't think I'll ever have any more perfect moments than the ones waking up in your arms, in your bed. I still picture those mornings, you would kiss the back of my neck and your arms would tighten and we'd start all over again and make one another late for work...do you think about them the way I do? You would tell me over and over how you loved me, how we'd get married and how someday you would caress my stomach and our baby growing there.**_

_**Do you ever still think about that? Do you ever still think about me?**_

_**Please, Richard—my Richard. Let me see you again to tell you how sorry I am. **_

_**I see your head shaking--that lock of hair falling in your eyes the way I always loved. Just let me see you once and then I'll never bother you again if that's what you want. I promise you that. I do—just one lunch and that will be the end.**_

_**Laura**_

He let the letter drop onto the pile of junk mail, looked at it for a minute, retrieved it and tossed the entire stack of ads and catalogues into the trash. He went to his personal file cabinet and pulled out a large folder that was overflowing with letters written on the same paper in the same handwriting. He added the newest note to the pile then logged into a secure website on his laptop. After a couple of dead ends he had the answer he suspected would be there.

Laura Woodward had been released from a private psychiatric treatment facility two weeks ago.

TBC

9


	2. Part 2

Title: My Richard. Part two

Author: Simon

Characters: Dick/OC

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Dick and Laura's meeting, ten years ago.

Warnings: None

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Feedback: Hell, yes. 

Thanks again, Jim.

**My Richard**

Part Two 

Ten Years Ago 

"Alright Ladies and Gentlemen, the list of partners is up on the board so please check before you leave. It's your responsibility to get together and get the projects done, so I don't want to hear any complaints or excuses when things are due—you all got that?" The history teacher finished up just as the bell rang. This was the last period on a Friday in September—the second week of the school year and the kids were free until Monday. "Oh, and this year you keep the same partner through to June, so make friends with whoever you were assigned to. Your grades will depend on this, people. This is an exercise in cooperation."

Mumbles of understanding and complaint, along with a few excuses sounded as the class gathered belongings, the first ones already gone and a few still sitting with last minute notes and papers. There was a small group around the bulletin board that held the list.

"Are you Richard Grayson?"

Still writing the current homework assignment in his notebook, Dick looked up at the girl in front of him. She was new in school, average height, blonde and skinny but pretty. She wasn't a knockout like Donna or Barbara, but she wasn't half bad, either. Her hair was long and worn loose; she had on a pair of jeans and a long sleeved tee. He liked her on sight.

"We're partners, I'm Laura Woodward."

"You're new here, right?" Like, duh. Smooth, Grayson, real smooth. Dick didn't want to come across as a jerk, not yet, not with this girl—she looked too nice. Besides, they had to work together, he wanted her to like him. It would make the year a lot easier if they got along. And she really was pretty now that he got a good look at her.

"We just moved here last month from San Francisco; my Dad got transferred. You're Richard, right? That's what the guy in the yellow shirt said, anyway."

"Yes. I mean, that's me." He knew he was blushing and he hated that. "We should exchange phone numbers if we're going to be working together."

"That's OK, your parents are in the school phone book, aren't they?"

"It's unlisted." Like he wanted to get into this right now and like Bruce would have the Manor number listed. Not. He wrote it down and handed it to her, she leaned over and wrote hers on the cover of his notebook.

Laura was looking at the handout list of things they were supposed to get done by the time Christmas break started in three months. "The first thing is a timeline about Elizabethan England and it says here that it's due on Monday. Do you want to work at your house or mine?"

Monday? This was already Friday. "I don't know—your house?" Dick knew the reaction most people had the first time they saw the Manor—hell, he knew the reaction they had the first time they just saw the gates to the place. It wasn't the way to get to know one another in a relaxed atmosphere. "Will your parents mind?"

"No, they're good about school stuff. Why don't you come over tomorrow, is that alright? It's 7 Crystal Road, you know, over near the Catholic Church."

"Saint Catherine's? OK, is around ten tomorrow good?"

She nodded as he stood up and they walked out to the lockers together. "Have you been going here long? I mean, are you one of the kids who's been here since like kindergarten?" She half whispered. "No one talks to me. It seems really cliquish, you know?"

Yes, Dick knew what she meant. A private high school in a rich area? Snob appeal? Oh, yeah. He smiled at her. "It is but there are some kids who are okay. And I only started here in fourth grade so I don't go back as far as a lot of them." He stopped at his locker, she stood next to him. "It helps if you do a sport or something. If you join a couple of the clubs you should be alright."

Laura seemed to screw up her courage. "If you're not busy, maybe we could get started after school, I mean if you don't have to be anywhere or something. My Mom is picking me up and she could give you a ride."

Well, Alfred had told him that he might be late today and the sooner they got started the better. Besides, Bruce had a bug on this year about his grades since he was a sophomore and his grades would start counting for college... "OK, but I have to make a call first so they know where I am." After the kidnap attempt last year, Alfred sort of freaked about stuff like that.

Smiling, she told him she'd meet him out front after she got her things out of her own locker and he used the pay phone. A few minutes later they were getting into a new Jag sedan and Dick had hours to spare. Bruce was in Paris on business and Alfred was going into the city to see some new art exhibit. No one would be home until at least nine or ten that evening so he was on his own. The usual introductions were made and Mrs. Woodward seemed pleasant enough, asking Dick about where he lived and what sports he played—the usual questions. He was used to this sort of thing and skirted around being an orphan and having the richest man in the country as his guardian. People tended to react oddly when they first heard that and so he learned to let that information out at the right time. He did, however, learn that the Woodward's had moved east so that the father could take a job in the legal department of Wayne Enterprises. That wasn't a big deal, living with Bruce things like that happened all the time but when people found out that he was basically the boss's son, he knew it could get awkward.

The two kids spent the first two hours at the Woodward's working in the study. Laura did research on the computer while Dick went through both their textbook and the family encyclopedia. They got along easily and worked well together. Both of them were academically inclined and while neither was a major fan of the subject matter, they both intended to get an 'A' for the year in the class. By the time Laura's mother came in to ask Dick if he wanted to stay for dinner they were almost finished with the thing.

"Really, it's no trouble at all. I always make extra out of habit since Laura's brother used to eat everything that wasn't nailed down. He's at Yale now, so he's cleaning out their kitchens instead of mine... I still cook as if he's here, though. If your parents won't mind your staying, you two can get some more work done, just let them know I'll drive you home when you're ready. How does that sound?"

So half an hour later when John Woodward came home he was introduced to Laura's new friend. The meal was pleasant and relaxed, the food was fine and Dick found himself missing his own family, his own parents, more than he had in a long time. Bruce and Alfred, they were great—well Alfred was great, Bruce blew hot and cold depending on any number of things—but dinnertime at the Manor tended toward the formal side of things. Dinner with his parents had always been fun like it was tonight, sitting around the kitchen table. They would often eat with some of the others from the circus and there would be joking and laughter and shop talk about the show or the next leg of the tour. It was friendly and comfortable and Dick was part of it. Dinner at the Manor tended to be pretty quiet. Sometimes Dick would volunteer something that had happened that day in school, but since the most he usually got from Bruce was a distracted "Oh, really?" he didn't try as much as he used to.

He was a stranger to these people, but they were kind to him and he missed having actual parents asking about how school had gone or what his teachers were like. It was a world he'd lost with his parents' deaths.

"So, Richard—you didn't tell us, what do your parents do?" Lynn Woodward was handing him a piece of cake for dessert.

Hell. He would rather not get into the whole 'orphan' thing right now and he really didn't want them to know just yet who had taken him in. It would be too weird; it was always weird when that shoe got dropped. On the other hand, he'd been through it enough to know the direct approach seemed to work the best to get the subject changed.

"My parents were killed in an accident when I was eight so I live with a guardian. He's an executive with a company based in the city." People generally assumed it had been a car wreck or something like that. The usual silence and sympathetic looks came over the table so he filled tried to the void by changing the subject. "May I have some more milk, please?"

"Of course, dear."

Dinner ended quickly after that and the two youngsters went out back to look at the pool.

"I'm sorry about your parents."

"...It's alright. It was a long time ago. I mean, I've lived without them now as long as I lived with them and I ended up in a good home. I'm okay. It could have turned out a lot worse." He hated the pity and the sympathy he always got when people found out and had come up with a few standard responses. In fact it wasn't okay, of course and he wished with all his heart that his parents were waiting for him to come home right this minute. He learned to put a good face on things. Besides, it really could have been a lot worse if Bruce hadn't taken him in.

They sat, their feet in the water, and talked about school, their classes, the different teachers and the different social groups. Dick told her about the various clubs and sports that were available. They got along well, talking and laughing easily together for an hour or more.

Laura's mother called them to come back inside, she'd take Dick home now if she could, it wasn't really late, but he should be getting back. A little while later she dropped him off, despite her protests, at the back gate to the Manor, not knowing what it actually was nor who lived there. She was still new to the area and still learning the lay of the land. He told them that he could walk to the house just fine from the gate; telling them he did it all the time. And he'd be over at ten the next morning to make sure the assignment was finished and looked good. He refused the offer for a ride in the morning, saying he'd get a lift himself.

On the ride back home, Lynn made a comment to her daughter that Richard seemed to be a nice young man—he had such nice manners and seemed to be bright. It was good they would be working together this year and maybe he would introduce her to his circle of friends. Besides, he was good looking, too. Joking, she told Laura that she seemed to have made a conquest.

Laura agreed, laughing and probably hopeful. "Did you notice his eyes? They're bluer than Paul Newman's, even."

"Paul Newman? Isn't he a bit before your time, sweetie?"

"Butch Cassidy was on last weekend...his eyes are amazing." Lynn wasn't sure which 'he' her daughter was referring to. "And he's an orphan, that's the saddest thing I've ever heard and he told me that he's an only child, too. When his parents died he must have been left completely alone if he's living with some guardian."

"Someone gave him a good home, it seems. I wouldn't worry, honey, he seems to be happy enough."

"But it's so sad."

"Well if you two become friends you can cheer him up when you think he needs it." This might be good. If Laura could connect with someone at her new school perhaps they could avoid...

Laura smiled at her mother. That was exactly what she had in mind.

When they got home Laura went up to her room to call a girlfriend back in California while her mother found John watching a game on TV. She sat in her usual chair, book in her lap and read quietly for a while. Maybe Laura and this boy would become friends. Maybe that would help stop the problem from happening again.

John was the one who brought it up; he had only just managed to keep a straight face when he'd been introduced to the kid at dinner that evening. Working where he did and having done his homework on the company when he was applying for the job, he recognized Dick's name.

"Do you know who that boy is?"

"Richard? He's one of Laura's classmates. He seems nice enough, why?"

"But do you know who he is?" She looked at him, waiting for him to tell her. "His guardian, the one he mentioned who took him in after his parents were killed? His guardian is Bruce Wayne."

"'Wayne Enterprises' Bruce Wayne?"

"Bruce Wayne, the richest man in the country and maybe the world, my boss."

"And that boy is his—what's the word?"

"Richard is his legal ward. That's almost like being his legal son. In every practical sense of the word, Wayne is the kid's father."

"Isn't that unusual, a single man raising a boy like that? Even I've heard the rumors about them, I just didn't realize that this was the same child all the innuendo is about."

He shrugged slightly. "As far as I know it's just that; rumor. Richard said his parents were killed, Wayne was orphaned young—that could explain it right there. He may have just felt sorry for him."

"And our daughter seems to have developed a crush on him."

"He did seem like a nice kid. Well, at least she has good taste." John smiled, amused. "Of course if they break up or have a fight it could mean my job. After the last time..."

"Now you know that wasn't all her fault. That boy led her on something awful. He wasn't anything like this Richard we met tonight. This one is different, anyone can see that."

"Let's hope so."

They went back to the TV and book for a few minutes. "What do you know about Richard himself? How did he end up with Wayne? Were the parents friends or did they work for him or something?"

John shrugged. "I'll see what I can find out. He seemed alright tonight, but he's still young and some of these rich kids think they can do anything they want. If he's going to be spending time with Laura, I want to make sure that he's not a spoiled brat."

Upstairs Laura hung up from telling Melanie about her new school and the cute guy she was assigned to work with, then dialed Dick's number. He answered on the third ring.

"Hello? Richard? It's Laura; I just wanted to make sure you're coming tomorrow. I really want to do well on this project. I'd like to impress the teacher, you know?"

"Yeah, sure, I'll be there—you know, most people call me 'Dick'. 'Richard' sounds like you're my mother and you're mad at me."

"I like it better than 'Dick'...is it alright if I call you Richard? It seems more like you, more mature and, I don't know, more classy or something."

"Well, if you put it that way..."

"I'll see you tomorrow...Richard." They hung up and Dick saw Alfred standing by the kitchen counter. Dick had been looking for something more to eat when Laura called.

"Hey, Alfred. Good exhibit?"

"Quite inspiring, thank you. Who was on the phone just now?" He put the kettle on. A cup of something herbal would be soothing before bed.

Dick finished the cheese he'd been slicing off. "A girl from school asking about an assignment we're doing together. Can you give me a ride over to her house tomorrow around ten? We wanted to get it done."

"That can be arranged, I should think." He got out the lemon tea he liked. "Whom is the young lady you'll be working with?"

"...Just a girl. I'm going to turn in, Alf. G'night." Alfred caught his blush as the boy left the room. Evidently she was more than 'just a girl'.

"Sleep well, Master Dick." He watched the tea steep. This was something new, a young lady calling the house and Dick's reaction suggested he was considering her as potentially more than just a study partner who had called him about something or other. A young lady calling a young man, indeed. Things were done differently in his day, but then it was no longer his day and he would do well to keep that in mind.

Ten sharp the next morning Dick rang the doorbell and was let in. Laura's parents were out back doing yard work. The two kids went up to her bedroom, spending a couple of hours finishing the project to their mutual satisfaction. They were getting along as well as they had the night before and Dick was starting to think he may have lucked out about the whole thing—she was pretty, smart and seemed to be a hard worker, plus she seemed to like him. This was starting to look like a pretty good year.

John Woodward offered him a ride home, saying he was going out to do some errands anyway. Laura came along and the three of them stopped for lunch at a local diner on the way—John concerned that it would be a comedown or an insult to Dick, considering what he was probably used to. He was put at ease as they slid into the booth, the kids next to one another as Dick commented that Paul's Diner was his favorite place to eat since he'd moved to the area. In fact, this was a treat since he almost never got to come. They ordered their burgers and made small talk while they waited for their food.

Dick knew what was going on. He saw the sycophancy starting and he knew that John Woodward had figured out whom he lived with. He'd been around this block before and decided to jump in with both feet. "Do you like working at Wayne Corp?"

John hadn't expected that. "How did you know where I work, Richard?"

"I saw the look you gave me when we were introduced at dinner last night and realized you recognized my name. Around here a lot of people are on Bruce's payroll." He gave a slight shrug. "It happens sometimes." He smiled. "Besides, I saw the company parking permit on your windshield."

Dick had also used Bruce's password to look at the man's personnel file last the night before, but didn't mention it.

That wasn't what he'd expected from a fifteen-year-old kid. "Well, I just started two weeks ago, but so far I like it very much."

Dick smiled a little. Of course he had to say that. "Good, Bruce wants people to be happy there. I think Bruce wants me to end up working there eventually, too."

"Would you like that?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I'm not sure that business is really my thing."

"No reason to decide that sort of thing yet. Have you any idea what you may like to do?"

"Not really. Maybe go into my parents' business...I don't know. I haven't decided on anything. I figure I have time. Have you met Bruce yet?"

"...Not yet." He was just another lawyer in the department; he'd probably never meet the man.

The waitress brought their food, handing out the burgers and Cokes and things. The conversation turned general. John was watching Richard and realized that the kid was watching both him and Laura as well. It wasn't anything obvious, but it was clear that there wasn't much that was getting past him and he wondered if he'd be filling in Wayne about the new employee over dinner later. It was a little disconcerting, and he wondered if the kid had resources to do more digging into his resume than what was written on the page. It would be awkward if Wayne found out why he'd been job hunting.

When Dick was driven home he directed them through the main entrance, operating the security pad to open the gates and mentally sighing at the expressions the other two tried to hide when they got to the Manor. It was a bit much when you came down to it. The place looked like a museum or a library or something—maybe a big hotel. It wasn't what most people thought of when they pictured a homey place to hang out.

"This is quite a place, Richard." John knew that the rich lived differently than the rest of the world, he just hadn't realized how differently.

"It's okay." He was a little too dismissive, but what the hell. "Why don't you come in and meet Bruce? I think he said he would be around this afternoon."

"...I wouldn't want to impose."

"It's not a problem. Come on."

Trapped and knowing it could be to his advantage to meet the boss, John turned off the ignition. Inside he and Laura tried to be nonchalant about the obvious antiques and wealth at every turn as they followed Richard into what seemed to be a library or study, though one four or five times the size of his own.

"Bruce? You busy?" The man was sitting at his desk, writing checks. "This is John Woodward and his daughter, Laura. He just started in your legal department and Laura is in some of my classes at school. We were just finishing a project this morning."

"I was wondering where you were today. John, good to meet you—in fact if you have a minute I'd like to go over a couple of things." He stood up, holding out his hand and shaking John's outstretched one, ignoring the deer in the headlights expression on the other man. He was as used to it as Dick was. Bruce was, after all, Bruce Wayne. They exchanged the pleasantries and Wayne started asking legal questions about some buyout that was in the works, which, thank God, John had just been reviewing and was conversant on. It seemed that it would be a while and Dick offered to show Laura around. The two youngsters started the tour while the men talked business.

Since it was too nice a day to be inside, they strolled outside, seeing the pool, the stables, about two miles of paths through the estate and Alfred's rose garden, which was still in bloom. Laura exclaimed at the flowers, seeming to like them best of everything she'd seen.

On impulse, Dick used a pocketknife to cut off long a stemmed Princess Elizabeth and handed it to her. She thanked him—equally on impulse—with a quick kiss which caused them to smile in both pleasure and embarrassment.

They heard John calling them from the house and turned to go, meeting him at the car. "I guess I'll see you in school."

"I guess."

Neither father missed the exchange or the look between the kids. Judging from the expressions on their faces, they seemed to have the beginnings of a teenaged romance on their hands.

TBC

18


	3. Part 3

Title: My Richard. Part three

Author: Simon

Characters: Dick/OC

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Dick and Laura's relationship continues.

Warnings: None

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Feedback: Hell, yes. 

**My Richard**

Part Three 

Dick and Laura quickly became a couple, as teenagers tend to do. They weren't the kind who made out in study hall or embarrassed anyone when they were walking between classes or anything, but they were together and it just sort of became a given that if one of them was working in the library or somewhere the other would probably be close by. Being paired with Dick also gave Laura an entry into the school's social life. It wasn't that Dick was one of the big wheels, but he was one of those kids who was generally liked and had friends—or people he would talk to, anyway, across a lot of the various social groups. When Dick accepted Laura, she was accepted by a lot of the other kids. All of a sudden she had other girls wanting to eat lunch with her and talking to her in the locker room.

It annoyed her, though, because she realized that it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with Richard. Part of her resented it and she would make snotty and caustic remarks to some of the other girls when they'd laugh and ask if he was a good kisser or something, and after the first few tries they left her alone, deciding that she was a bitch and that Dick could do better. She never said anything to Dick about it, though. The time she and her new boyfriend had together was too good to ruin because of something stupid.

During the fall and into the winter they would study together after school at either Laura's house or the manor. They went to movies, they would spend evenings and weekends sitting around watching TV, tossing a Frisbee or swimming since both families owned pools—the manor's being both larger and fancier, of course. As the weather got cooler they simply moved to the indoor pool at the manor, both of them doing laps before relaxing and playing and knowing that Alfred or Bruce could walk in any time to make sure nothing was going on.

It annoyed Dick and made Laura laugh that they had more freedom and seemed more trusted alone by her parents than with Dick's household and she teased him to tell her what he had done—and with whom—to make Bruce so suspicious. The fact that he hadn't really done anything with anyone made it all the more irritating for him.

They got to know one another better as the months went by.

For one thing, she found out that Richard was probably one of the smartest kids in the school, though he kept that under wraps. He made good grades, sure, but he could probably have done even better if he'd wanted. A solid 'A-' seemed okay with him and he let it go at that.

Bruce made a lot of demands on Dick, too, which Laura thought was unfair. She'd want to hit the mall or something and a lot of times Richard would tell her that he had to go to some dinner or sit in on a boring meeting or that Bruce had made plans which he was expected to clear his schedule for. He'd say that he'd call her in the morning or see her in school instead. Sometimes it almost seemed like he was just another Wayne Corp employee or something.

Laura also clued in pretty fast that Richard, as she always called him, was a lot more athletic than he was given credit for and asked him why he didn't play on any of the school teams. He told her that he didn't have time and, besides, the school didn't have his favorite sports so he wasn't really interested. This led them to Laura's backyard so Dick could show off a little by throwing a couple of tumbling passes—nothing too advanced, nothing that a reasonably talented high school kid couldn't do, but enough to impress Laura and her parents who were watching from the family room window. That was the night he told her that before his parents had been killed he had lived in a circus and that they had all been aerialists. He'd started working with the act when he was four and if they hadn't died, he'd probably still be touring with Haley or Ringling Brothers or something.

She told him that being a gypsy was sexy and that night they had one of their best make out sessions yet, only stopping because even Laura's parents had their limits and with the moon being full there wasn't much they couldn't see of what was going on down on one of the pool chaises. The outside lights flicked on just as things were seriously heating up and Dick scrambled to get his shirt back on before Laura's father came out

Despite the usual parental concerns, the Woodward's seemed to be doing everything they could to subtly encourage the romance. They made sure that Dick knew he was always welcomed to stay for dinner or to join them at a show. He was included in family parties and birthdays. One evening they asked him if he had any plans for the Christmas break and said that if he could get away, it would be fun if he could join them in Aspen for a couple of weeks. They owned a condo on the slopes in Snowmass and it was a family tradition to spend the holidays there, they'd done it since the kids had been small.

Dick thanked them, but Bruce had made plans for them to ski Kitzbuhl this year and they were looking forward to it.

When the two youngsters were alone together they would do the things every couple do but drew the line at actual sex. Oh, they had more than their share of pretty good make out sessions and those swims in the pool and times in the Jacuzzi weren't what anyone would call platonic, but they didn't cross the final line—not that they didn't want to, but, well, they weren't quite ready for that.

One day Dick found a box of condoms in his medicine cabinet that he knew he sure hadn't put there and wondered if it had been Bruce or Alfred who'd gotten them. He wasn't about to ask and no one said anything.

He did make a point of taking one or two out of the box every week just to see what would happen and laughed to himself when the empty box was silently replaced with a full one. He even mentally wrote out the conversation that Bruce and Alfred might have had about it. "Well, sir, it appears that I have an errand at the pharmacy this morning." Oh, Alfred, what would that be?" "It seems that the young master has been availing himself of the, ahem, the prophylactics. The box is completely empty." "Well, see to it, then, if you would, Alfred." "Of course, sir. Immediately."

He and Laura were mostly compatible, they liked one another and they were pretty well matched. They were both intelligent, both cared about their grades and seemed to have similar opinions and views of most of the major issues. They simply got along well. They did argue now and then, but it was never anything earthshaking and Dick, in particular, would usually be the one to calm things down and smooth whatever the problem had been so they could get back to normal.

The one thing that he couldn't smooth over was Laura's frustration with his schedule. Though he gave her as much time as he reasonably could, he still had to devote a lot of hours to training with Bruce down in the Cave and there were a lot of nights he had to leave her place early or have her leave the manor so that Batman and Robin could do their thing.

He insisted that he just had a lot of homework to do or that the AP classes were harder than he thought they'd be or something like that. Once in a while he used the line of having to do Wayne Corp stuff, but the excuses were starting to become a problem since Laura didn't believe them and wanted to know why he was angry with her or where he was really going—and with whom. There had been tears and a couple of tantrums about it and Dick was starting to feel guilty about it.

The afternoon the two of them were over at the manor and the Titan's decided to surprise Dick was beyond difficult and Dick could only thank whatever God was above that they had at least arrived in civilian clothes. Laura took one look at Richard talking to Donna in a bikini while they were all swimming and decided that Dick liked her better and started an argument that lasted almost a week. Laura refused to believe Dick's explanation that Donna was just a friend and, besides, she was dating Roy. And Garth had liked her just fine; he was just shy and a little self conscious about his accent and imperfect English. Honest, they had liked her—they really had.

Actually Dick's old friends thought that his new girlfriend was a little neurotic and that he could do better, but they weren't about to say anything to him about it, at least not yet. She was possessive and clingy and seemed to want to monopolize him. It was obvious she resented him having other friends and Donna had picked up the daggers and bad vibes the little snip was throwing her way all afternoon.

Bitch.

This wouldn't last. No way. Dick was smarter than this and would clue in soon enough.

After Christmas, after everyone had gotten home from their respective ski trips and things were settling back to normal, Dick and Laura were in her family's TV room watching a movie when Dick got a phone call. Alfred wanted him to know that Bruce had been called out for one of his 'evening meetings' and would appreciate Dick accompanying him. Alfred was on his way out the door to pick the young master up and please be ready when he expected to be there in about ten minutes.

"But you just got here. The movie isn't over..."

"Bruce wants me there for some reason, I have to go." Batman wanted Robin as backup. He had no choice.

"But it's just another boring meeting, why do you have to sit there? It's like you're on his payroll or something."

Robin WAS on Batman's payroll, if you wanted to look at it that way. "He always has some reason, Laura. You know that. Besides, he wants me to join the company eventually, this is the kind of stuff that is supposed to help get me ready for that."

"But..."

"Alfred's going to be here in a second, I have to get my shoes on and find my coat."

"But Richard..."

"I'll call you tomorrow."

"But..."

She didn't speak to him for three days. Finally, she called him in tears and begged him not to be mad at her, but she just so wanted to be with him that when he had to leave or something it was hard—he had to understand that she loved him and wanted them to be together as much as they could.

About a week or so after that Dick was in the cafeteria in third lunch instead of his usual second. He'd been working on a chem lab that had run late but was sitting at his usual table with Marcia, his lab partner and they were talking. The conversation was light and the two of them were laughing. She tapped his arm as they talked to emphasize some point when a bowl of soup was tossed down her front.

"Richard is my boyfriend, you cunt. You stay away from him, you hear me?" Dick got up and grabbed her arms as she started to slap Marcia, sitting there in disbelief.

"Laura, for Christ's sake, stop, will you?"

She turned on him. "You were asking her out, weren't you? You said we were going steady and now you're twotiming me with that bitch—you were, I heard you, you were asking her to the movies this weekend."

"We were talking about chemistry."

"Bullshit. You want to go out with her."

"Be quiet. That's not what was going on."

"Like hell. You and the bitch were talking about going out this weekend, weren't you? I heard you, you were. You were laughing about me."

By now everyone in the room was listening. "That's enough, okay? We were just talking about class and you owe Marcia an apology." He had slipped into his Robin persona without realizing it. He was as close to the Bat as any of these kids would likely see. Laura backed down immediately, seeming to crumble.

Close to tears, she turned to the other girl who was vainly blotting her sweater. "I'm sorry, Marcia. I really am. I'll get that dry cleaned for you or get you a new one. I promise I will."

Nodding, not buying any of it and wanting to get the hell away from this nutjob, Marcia left to change into her gym shirt. Dick picked up both trays, taking them to the collection window then walking out into the hallway. Laura followed.

"Richard? Richard? Please, don't be angry with me. Please. I thought that you were, well, you know. I was wrong. I know you wouldn't do anything like that. Please?" She was holding his arm as he looked down at her. "Please don't be mad."

He looked at her for another few moments. The bell would ring any second. Hell. "We were just talking about the lab."

"I know. I just saw you two laughing and I thought..." She kissed his cheek. "Are we still going to the movie tonight?" He nodded. The bell rang and they separated for the next period.

Things were pretty quiet for the next month or so. Laura was sweet and funny and Dick almost forgot that about the couple of times she's weirded out on him. They were back to their usual sort of schedule. They'd spend time at one house or the other; they'd see movies and hang out. They almost never spent time with anyone else, other than their families and that seemed to keep things on an even keel.

In the school library Laura caught up with Dick studying for an English test. "Hey."

"Hey. You busy this weekend?"

"I've got some stuff to do, nothing major, though, why?" Just the usual patrols with Batman and some research on a jewel theft they were working on. The usual.

Laura smiled the whole Monty at him. This was working out perfectly. Her father was going to London this weekend to work on some legal thing and her mother was going along for the ride. Richard could come over. They'd have the whole house to themselves and maybe they could, well, you know. Maybe now they could finally spend a whole night together. She'd been thinking about it more and more and she knew he had, too. It was what they both wanted and this would be perfect.

All Richard would have to do was say he was spending the weekend with some friend of his or something. It would be easy.

It would be wonderful. It would.

Please?

"I don't think it's a good idea." They were whispering, not wanting anyone to hear.

"But—why not? Don't you want to?"

Not really. Well, yeah. Sure he did, but this wasn't what he wanted—he didn't want to sneak around and lie and all of that. "Of course I do, but I can't lie to Bruce and he'll know. He always knows when I'm lying, and if he doesn't, Alfred will know. There's no way to get past Alf. None."

"But you could if you wanted."

"Laura..."

"Well," The disappointment was obvious. She'd been hoping for a love nest complete with soft music and candles. "You could still come over, just not spend all night. You could do that."

"Why don't you come over to the manor?" That might help diffuse things. Laura liked the manor—and there was no way in hell they'd end up doing anything beyond what they had been already with Alfred hovering around.

"...Don't you want to sleep with me? I thought that, I mean, I thought—you said that you love me." Her voice had that quaver in it, she was going to cry.

Shit. In fact he'd never said he loved her. He hadn't. Oh, Laura had told him any number of times and had taken to referring to them as being 'in love', but he'd never said it. He hadn't. He liked her, sure, but he didn't love her. Cripes, they were fifteen years old and Dick wasn't anywhere near close to wanting to deal with this.

Well, okay, sure he wanted to get laid, but this was getting too complicated and Laura was starting to piss him off about the whole thing. He was being pressured into it and he'd like to have a little more say than he seemed to be getting here.

The hell with it, he could wait.

Plus he really didn't want to hurt her feelings. He did like her. He did, just not much more than that. Maybe someday, but not right now. Sure, they'd fooled around and made out and stuff, but it wasn't like they were Romeo and Juliet and about to kill themselves for each other or anything like that. They were girlfriend and boyfriend, sure, but—it wasn't like they were about to get married or anything.

Besides, they'd never even really talked about sleeping together. They hadn't. Sure, they'd made it to about third base and done some major groping, but that was it.

Christ.

"Look, Laura, I think maybe we shouldn't do this. I mean this weekend. Is that okay? If you want to come over to the manor, that would be cool, but I don't want to start all this right now."

"But you said you loved me."

Hell. "No. I didn't."

"Of course you did. That night we were in my parents pool and we were skinny-dipping. You said that you loved me."

Holy crap. Her voice was getting louder. He shushed her. "Laura, we never went skinny dipping in your parents pool. You wanted to, but I wouldn't because they were up in their room overlooking the pool and would have seen us. The lights were on, they were still awake up there."

"Yes we did. You've just forgotten. We did and you wanted to make love to me right there in the water but I stopped you because my parents would have had a fit."

Never happened. "Laura..." He was the one who'd stopped her, not the other way around.

"You really don't remember? Richard, you said you loved me and it was all I could do to stop you that night. I wanted you, too, but we were right there under my parent's window and..."

"Laura, look, ah, I think maybe we shouldn't see each other until your parents get back. Is that okay?"

She stared at him, trying to understand. Dick was about to speak when the small silence between them was broken by a half choked sound. "It's that other girl, isn't it? That Donna person. I saw how she was watching you that day. I did. I knew you liked her and that she wasn't just a friend like you tried to tell me. You've been seeing her, haven't you? You have. You've been seeing her instead of me. You're going to see her this weekend, aren't you? Aren't you?"

The librarian came over and told them to either keep it down or leave.

"Laura, look, I'm busy this weekend with Bruce. I'll call you when I can."

"You're just doing this so you can screw that other girl, aren't you? That's all you want. You've been trying to sleep with me since we were assigned together in class."

Christ. "Laura..."

"You're a pig. All you wanted was to get laid and since I wouldn't let you do whatever you wanted you've found someone else who will, right? Well the hell with you." She swept her hand across the top of the table, smashing all his books to the floor.

The librarian looked up. "Out. Both of you."

Picking up his stuff, Dick walked out to the hallway. It was the end of the day anyway. There were only about ten minutes to the bell as he walked to his locker. Laura was nowhere around.

What had just happened?

Sure he knew she could be a little flaky now and then, but she wasn't stupid and she was usually rational—except lately.

Alfred was waiting at the curb when he went out the main doors. It was a rainy day, pouring really, and he jogged to the car without looking around. He didn't see Laura standing behind that tree watching him leave and he didn't notice Lynn Woodward waiting in the Jag a few cars behind Alfred's Bentley.

When they got home Dick went down to the cave to work out. He was upset and angry and wasn't sure what he wanted to do about the whole thing with Laura. He liked her, he really did, but this was just bullshit. He had enough on his plate without this being dumped there as well.

He went through his warm-up and then moved to his favorite piece of apparatus, the high bar, swinging, releasing, catching—throwing a dismount only to jump back on the bar as soon as he landed. He was down there for over three hours, sweating, working, concentrating on the movement, the breathing, the rhythm—getting into the zone where the bar was all that mattered.

He missed the calls to his private line and it was only when he went upstairs to shower and change for dinner that he saw the light flashing on the machine. There were over thirty calls lined up. He pushed the button.

"_**Richard? Call me, okay? I need to talk to you."**_

"_**Richard? Are you there? Pick up...Richard?"**_

"_**Richard? I know you're home. Call me back."**_

"_**Richard? Please don't be angry with me. Please? Call me when you get this."**_

"_**Richard? I know you're mad at me. Please call me."**_

"_**Richard? I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to get you upset—honest. Call me, okay?"**_

"_**Richard? You're starting to piss me off with this stupid silent treatment. Call me."**_

"_**Richard—are you there?"**_

"_**Richard? Where the hell are you? Is someone with you? Just call me back."**_

"_**Richard, this is stupid. Stop ignoring me, will you? I know you're there."**_

"_**That bitch is there with you, isn't she? I know you're there—pick up the damn phone."**_

"_**Where the fuck are you? Richard—you're acting stupid. You're making me really mad now."**_

"_**Richard—you're getting laid, aren't you? It's that bitch Donna, right? Is that why you had to rush off right after school? You're doing it right now, aren't you? I bet you two are going at it right this minute. I'll just bet you are, you bastard."**_

"_**Richard—God. You're breaking up with me, aren't you? I know that's what you're doing. You can't do that—we love each other—don't you remember? You said you loved me. Richard, please call me. Please."**_

"Richard, it's okay if you have another girlfriend besides me. I can share you if that's what you want. I'll do whatever you want. Please, Richard, just call me back."

The phone rang as he was listening to the messages. Caller ID—it was Laura.

Hell.

"_**Hello?"**_

"_**Richard? You're there! I've been going out of my mind worrying about you. We're not breaking up, are we? You wouldn't do that, would you?"**_

"_**Laura, I, look, I think that maybe we should..."**_

"_**You don't want to break up, do you? Richard, can you come over so we can talk?"**_

"_**I don't think..."**_

"_**I'll come over there, is that alright? I can be there in like fifteen minutes, okay?"**_

"I think Alfred will have dinner ready then and..." 

"_**I can stay in your room or eat with you or whatever you want, can I come over?"**_

Oh, God, just leave me alone**_. "Yeah, sure."_**

"**_Oh, thank you, I'll be right there. I love you." _**The connection was cut.

The intercom in his room buzzed. "Master Dick? Dinner is going on the table, please join me. And Master Bruce phoned earlier, he'll be delayed so we shan't be waiting for him this evening."

"Is there enough for Laura, too? I think she'll be here in a couple of minutes."

If the old man was startled he was the only one who knew it. "Of course. I'll set another place."

Sitting at the family dining room table fifteen minutes later, Dick and Laura ate in a strained silence. Alfred had chosen to take his meal in the kitchen so as to not interfere. He knew how young people liked to be alone together.

"Was someone here before? I tried to call you, but..."

"I was downstairs working out. My phone doesn't ring down there."

"Oh."

"...Did you want to talk?"

"Do you want to break up?"

"Laura, I don't know. I think, maybe, um, I think we should maybe back off for a while."

She looked stunned, as if he'd slapped her. She wasn't crying or yelling or anything like that. She was just sitting there as if she'd taken a body blow or a punch to the stomach. She looked at him, staring, trying to get a read on what he really meant by that then nodded once, placed her napkin carefully on the table by her plate and walked to the front door, closing it behind her as she left.

No tears, no hysterics, no thrown breakables, she just walked out. It was too easy.

The next day she wasn't in school, which slightly surprised Dick. She never missed class, she'd come in sick if she had to, but she never missed school. Her grades were too important to her.

That evening after dinner Dick called the Woodward's house to see if Laura was okay. Her mother answered, sounding strained.

"Mrs. Woodward? Is Laura there?"

"Richard?—No, she's not here right now, could I take a message?"

"Will she be late? I'd like to speak with her."

"Richard, honey—Laura is in Saint Clare's under observation for a few days."

"Saint Clare's?" That was the local hospital.

"She's alright, we found her in plenty of time, but late last night she took three bottles of sleeping pills."

TBC

21


	4. Part 4

Title: My Richard. Part four

Author: Simon

Characters: Dick/OC

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Dick and the other's deal with Laura's suicide attempt

Warnings: None

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Feedback: Hell, yes. 

**My Richard**

Part Four 

Two days after Laura tried to kill herself it finally dawned on Bruce that Dick seemed upset about something. Alright, in truth he only noticed because Alfred pointed out the obvious to him. He was at a loss as to what to do about it.

He stood in the doorway to Dick's room, hesitating and unsure.

"Did you want something, Bruce?" Dick was lying on his bed, Sega gamepad in hand. The sounds of battle came from the TV.

Bruce came in, sat on the bed beside the boy—something he probably hadn't done since Dick was about ten. "Everything going alright?"

Dick looked over at him. Nope, he wasn't going to help Bruce out with this. Obviously Alfred had told him something was going on and ordered Bruce to talk to him about it. Well, deal with it, Bruce; he wasn't in a sharing mood right now.

"Fine."

"How's school coming along? Any problems?"

"School's fine."

Bruce nodded. "You see any of your friends lately?"

Dick shrugged. "Everyone's busy."

"How about Laura?"

Dick shrugged again. Ah, so that was the problem, a lover's spat. Well, that he could talk to the boy about. "Lady troubles?"

"I guess."

"You two have an argument?"

Dick nodded. "Sort of." He looked back at the TV screen. "I don't really want to talk about it, okay?"

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, other than the beeps and explosions of the game. "Did you two break up?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Could you just drop it, please?" Dick sat up, rolled off the bed. "I have homework." It was an obvious request to be left alone.

"We'll go out later, I'll be downstairs when you're ready." Maybe a patrol would take his mind off of his girl troubles.

"Okay. This shouldn't take that long."

Bruce left him to finish his homework, closing the door behind him. Going to the phone, Dick pushed the speed dial that got him to Laura's house. Her mother answered.

"_**Mrs. Woodward? It's D...Richard. Is Laura there, has she been released yet?"**_

"_**No, not yet, honey, the doctor's said this weekend if she seems up to it."**_

"_**Would it be alright if I went to visit her?"**_

"_**Oh, sweetheart, I don't think that would be a good idea right now. She's been upset and if she saw you..."**_

"_**Okay."**_

"_**Richard? How are you doing? Are you alright?"**_

"_**I'm fine."**_

"Well, I'm worried about you, and you do know that this isn't your fault, don't you? We all know that and I want you to know that it had nothing to do with you; you didn't do a thing wrong. You know that, right?"

"_**Well, yeah. Sure. Um, this weekend? Could I see her then?"**_

"_**Why don't you call on Saturday and we'll see where we are then, is that alright, sweetie?"**_

"_**Okay, I will. Thanks, Mrs. Woodward."**_

"_**You're welcome, honey."**_

In his room, semi settled down to his homework, which he wasn't concentrating on, Dick picked up his phone on the third ring.

"_**Hello?"**_

"_**Richard? I'm so sorry. I really am so sorry. Can you talk to me for a few minutes?"**_

"_**Laura? I, I'm doing homework and I have to get it finished..."**_

"_**But I need to talk to you. Is that okay? I won't be long or anything. Okay?"**_

"I really have to do this..." 

"_**Please? I know you're angry about that thing in school and I know you're mad because I came over to your place that night, but we're still boyfriend and girlfriend, aren't we?"**_

"_**Look, Laura..."**_

"_**Please say we are. Please?"**_

"_**I have to go."**_

"_**Richard, you said you'd talk to me. You said that you would...you promised."**_

"_**I can't right now. I have to..."**_

"_**If you don't talk to me I'll kill myself. I will. I swear to God that I will."**_

"_**Laura, don't say things like that."**_

"_**I will. I swear."**_

"_**I'm going to hang up now..."**_

"_**You can't. Richard, you can't hang up. There, I stopped shouting—I'm sorry I was yelling at you, but you can't hang up. We have to talk."**_

"_**I'll see you when you get out of there, I'll see you when you get home."**_

"_**I'm pregnant."**_

Jesus.**_ "Laura, we haven't had sex."_**

"_**We did! We did!"**_

"_**Laura..."**_

"_**You said you loved me. You said you'd take care of me. You promised and now you're..."**_

"**_I have to go." _**He hung up on her. She was pregnant? Mother of God, he'd never even, he hadn't...all he'd done was feel her up and she'd given him that hand job a couple of weeks ago, that was it. They'd never done it, not even once.

God.

At the Woodward home, John looked up from his paper. "How did Richard sound?"

"He sounded upset and depressed. I would think that he's blaming himself for what happened, the poor thing."

He put down the paper. "I take it he doesn't know anything about last time, then, does he?"

"I don't think so." Lynn picked up her book; the evening patterns were firmly established. "Do you think we should tell him or Mr. Wayne?"

"With any luck this will be the end of it and the kids can either get back together or simply break up. I'm hoping Wayne doesn't have to know about this."

Lynn sipped the glass of wine she'd been nursing since dinner. "The man isn't stupid and neither is Richard. You know as well as I do that they may well find out sooner or later anyway. I think it would be a good idea if you just told him before he learns about it on his own."

"For God's sake, Lynn. If I do that I may be cutting my throat professionally."

"Why? Because your daughter had a problem?"

"Because our daughter has a problem which I didn't disclose when I applied for my job and which could compromise the reputation of the company I work for."

"That's ridiculous. Laura is a child who needs and is getting help, that's all. This is hardly national security we're talking about."

"Lynn..."

"Well, it isn't and don't you always quote that old cliché about the best defense being a good offense? I think you should talk to the man, as one father to another."

She was right and John knew it. Maybe if he did it the way she suggested, man to man instead of employee to boss, maybe that would work. "Do you know the number over at Wayne's place?" She dialed it herself and handed him the receiver.

"**_Mr. Wayne, please. John Woodward here...Thank you."_** He waited a minute while Wayne was summoned to the phone. Of course at that place it may have been brought to him on a silver tray.

"_**Mr. Woodward? Is there something I can do for you this evening?"**_

"_**I'm sorry to be bothering you like this, Mr. Wayne, but I was hoping that you might have a few minutes—at your convenience, of course. There are a couple of things I'm not sure if you're aware of about the kids."**_

"_**The kids? Dick and your daughter? Is there some sort of problem?"**_

"_**Would it be possible for us to get together? I'd really rather not discuss it over the phone."**_

There was a momentary hesitation, then**_, "Of course. Would you like to come over now? Or I could come to you if that would be easier."_**

Christ, Bruce Wayne was offering to hop in the Rolls and ride right over—what the hell was he thinking? On the other hand maybe it would go better on John's turf. He wouldn't be as intimidated by the whole manor thing. **_"I hate to put you out, sir."_**

"_**It's no trouble. I'll be there in a few minutes."**_

"Well?" Lynn was looking at him.

"He'll be here in a minute."

"Oh, my God. What do you offer a billionaire when he drops in?"

"Velveeta on a Ritz?"

"Oh God, cheddar, at least."

Bruce got the directions from Alfred, not telling Dick that he was going out. He was there inside of fifteen minutes, the door opening as he parked the Jag in the driveway.

"Mr. Wayne, I'm sorry to bring you out like this, but thank you for coming. I think we'll be comfortable in the study."

It was a paneled room with a small fireplace. The colors were dark, the walls lined with mostly law books. There was a massive and very good desk, likely an heirloom or something along those lines. Lynn joined them after a couple of minutes, bringing a platter with imported cheese and those fancy Norwegian crackers, asking Bruce what he'd like to drink. A beer would be fine, thank you. She was back in a minute or so. Bruce was privately amused that all three had beer after he requested it. He suspected that if he suggested caviar or veal cordon bleu they'd agree that was just what they'd been thinking of.

It happened a lot, this awkwardness when people dealt with him. They were always intimidated by his position or his money. Sometimes he knew his voice alone was enough to throw cold water over any gathering and that he didn't exactly come across as warm to most people. Well, so be it. This wasn't a social call.

Taking a cracker to be polite, he started the conversation. "John—may I call you John?—I gather that there's a problem with Laura and Dick?" God, what could be the big deal here? The instant that thought went through his mind he immediately began to imagine what exactly the big deal could be, about a hundred possible big deals, in fact.

"I take it you hadn't heard anything about what's happened?"

"Something's happened?" He wasn't about to tell them that Dick had basically refused to talk to him.

John took a drink of his beer, thanking God that at least it was Heineken and not Bud. "A couple of days ago the kids had some kind of argument at school. I think it started in the cafeteria and then continued in the library. I'm not sure what it was about, but Laura was pretty upset when she got home. She called Richard and went over to your place. From what I've managed to get from her, she was invited for dinner. Evidently there was another argument, or maybe just a continuation of the original one, and the upshot was that they've broken up."

There had to be more going on than just a couple of high school kids deciding to call it quits. Bruce tried to lead the man on. "This sort of thing happens all the time. I'm sure they're both upset, but they'll get over it in a few days or a couple of weeks. In a month or two they'll both probably be seeing someone else if they don't get back together before then."

"Mr. Wayne, Laura swallowed three bottles of over the counter sleeping pills two nights ago. She was admitted to Saint Clare's around 10 pm and she's under observation there now."

Dear Lord. "Will she be alright?"

"Physically, yes, she'll be fine but our obvious concern is to find out what upset her so much."

"Of course. Do you think Dick may have said or done something to make her do this?"

"No, probably not. Not on purpose, anyway." Lynn paused, seeming to choose her words. "We've had this sort of problem before with Laura. You see, in her last school she had a crush on a boy. They went out a few times but then it sort of petered out. Laura had some trouble letting go."

That wasn't what Bruce wanted to hear. He could see where this was going. "She had a problem?"

The Woodward's exchanged looks. John answered. "She accused the boy, he was a senior, she said that he'd raped her."

"Had he?"

Another look passed between Laura's parents. "The psychologists said that she genuinely believed that he had. In her mind she wasn't lying, but the boy hadn't done anything."

Christ. "Are you suggesting that something similar may happen here?"

Lynn nodded. "I'm...we're afraid that it might. Yes. Since the kids have been going out Laura has felt so much better—she's been so much happier that she stopped taking her medication and she's seemed fine all this time. Then she, she took all those pills and last night Laura told her doctor that she's pregnant."

Christ. "And is she?"

"No, the test came back negative. It was even repeated and she's not pregnant. The problem is that she thinks that she is and she's convinced that Richard is the father."

"Have they been sleeping together, do you know?" Dick had that box of condoms—wasn't he using the damn things? He knew that Alfred had replaced the box at least once.

Both of the Woodward's indicated through gestures that they didn't really know. "They've spent a lot of time together, we all know that. They're not children anymore..."

Bruce broke in here. "Well, yes, in fact they are children. They may have passed puberty, but they're both still kids...would you mind if I got Dick over here? We're talking in the dark. I'd like to ask him exactly what he knows about all of this."

"Forgive me, Mr. Wayne, but are you sure you want to confront him with all of us here like this? Maybe you should talk to him privately."

"This involves your daughter as well as Dick. If he's done something he has to deal with the consequences, he knows that."

The Woodward's glanced at one another. They knew Wayne was a tough businessman, evidently he was a tough parent as well.

John turned the desk phone around so Bruce could reach it. **_"Alfred? Please bring Dick over to the Woodward's right away. We'd like to speak with him...No, right now. Thank you."_**

When Dick arrived he looked like he was walking into the Inquisition.

John Woodward took the initiative. "Richard, please have a seat and relax. No one thinks you've done anything wrong and no one is angry with you. We'd all just like to find out what's been going on."

Wayne looked like he was chewing glass. Dick knew how much he hated surprises like this and he'd even asked him directly is everything was alright. The boy should have told him about this, damnit. There'd be hell to pay later.

"Is Laura alright? Have you heard anything?" Sure he'd just talked with her, but she'd been upset and didn't seem all that clear on the lyrics. He meant that she'd seemed sort of out of it, distracted and vague.

Lynn gave him a sympathetic smile. "She's upset, Richard, but she'll be better in a few days." She handed him the glass of Coke she knew he usually had when he was over. She'd gotten it while they were waiting for his arrival. "Has Laura been in contact with you since this all started?"

"She called me last night and today there were some messages on my machine. I missed most of the calls because I was down in the gym but she got me after dinner. She seemed sort or, I don't know. She wasn't really herself." There was an understatement for you.

Bruce let the other parents do the talking; he just watched and studied the others. Dick may only be fifteen, but he was precocious both emotionally and physically. It was entirely possible that he and the girl had been experimenting with—things. It was also probable that he wouldn't confide something like that to either Alfred or himself. He might talk to Leslie, maybe, but that wasn't likely. Dick played a lot of things close to the chest.

If it involved something really personal, it was rare for him to want to discuss it with anyone. It was just his way and Bruce tried to respect that.

Maybe he should have asked, though.

John's voice broke into his thoughts. "Could you tell us what you two argued about? Maybe that would help us a little."

Dick shifted uncomfortably on the end of the couch. "She was jealous because I was talking to another girl but I wasn't hitting on her or anything. Marcia is just my lab partner. We were talking about class a few weeks ago and Laura got upset about it. I told her it was nothing, but she kept bringing it up. She also thinks I'm two timing her with an old friend of mine." He looked at Bruce. "Donna. I'm not, though. Donna's just a friend and she's dating someone else, anyway."

Lynn nodded at him, encouraging. "I'm sure you weren't doing anything wrong, Richard but we do have to ask you something—or maybe you'd rather ask him privately, Mr. Wayne?"

Bruce looked at Dick. The boy knew what was coming. "Come into the next room with me." They got up and stood in the front entranceway. Dick was looking at the carpet. "You know what they want to know, don't you? Did you sleep with Laura, Dick?" The youngster hesitated, blushing, embarrassed. "I know you'd rather not tell me, but Laura is saying that you did and I need to know if it's true."

Eyes still on the rug he shook his head. "No, I didn't, we didn't. We fooled around some, but we never—you know. If she's pregnant, I had nothing to do with it."

"You give me your word on that?"

"Yes. I didn't sleep with her, Bruce. I, sure, I mean I wanted to but I didn't. I swear." He glanced back to the study. "Do you think they'll believe me?"

"I think so, yes. They seem to believe that it wasn't you who caused whatever is going on. No one is angry with you, Dick." He paused before he led Dick back into the Woodward's. "I think it would be a good idea if you thought about backing off from Laura when she gets home."

"Yeah, no shit." Bruce gave him a look worthy of Alfred. "Sorry."

The rest of the evening was basically more of the same. Dick was finally allowed to be driven back home by Alfred and he spent several hours checking supposedly sealed records about Laura's medical and legal history from the previous incident with the senior. There had been accusations of statutory rape. The charges were dropped after a couple of weeks and Laura had been sent to a facility specializing in delusional problems. She had attempted suicide three times in San Francisco, once with an attempted hanging, once when she slit her wrists and another time she OD'd. Each time she'd been sent to a pediatric mental facility for a month or so and then released. Her father applied for the job with Wayne Corp shortly after that and they left the state, relocating near Gotham. The hope was that a change of scene and a new start would help.

There were no other records of unusual behavior or any kind of lawsuits. There was no criminal record of any kind against any of the Woodward's, not even a speeding ticket.

Dick glanced up when he caught Bruce looking over his shoulder at the computer monitor. "This will probably be the end of it, Dick. She's getting help. Her parents told me that they think they've found her a good doctor and they expect her to be released this weekend. She'll continue with therapy and will likely be on medication, but they think this should take he pressure off both of you."

"Good." He got up, not believing a word of it. Laura was on his case right now—how the fuck could the doctors or nurses or whoever let her have constant access to a phone right now? "I'm tired, Bruce. Is it okay if I make it an early night?"

"No Robin?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Sure. Get some rest."

He couldn't tell Bruce about the calls. He'd freak in that cold, controlled way he had. He'd have Dick placed under twenty-four guard by the JLA or send him to Europe or something. Alfred would be upset about everything, the household would be turned upside down and all because he had an insane girlfriend.

It was just girlfriend problems—okay, maybe weirder than most, but Bruce had enough on his mind between business and being the Bat to not need this added to it. And Alfred—he couldn't do this to Alf. He couldn't.

He was Robin, damnit. He could handle this.

When he got up to his room the phone was ringing.

"_**Richard? I'm so glad you're there. You're not mad, are you? I couldn't stand it if you were mad at me."**_

"_**I'm not mad, Laura, I'm just really tired. I need to get some sleep, okay?"**_

"_**Oh, God, I'm sorry. You sleep, alright? I'll sleep too and it will almost be like we're sleeping together. Good night...I'll call you tomorrow and it will be like we're waking up together. I love you."**_

Alfred came in with a mug of hot chocolate. "Everything taken care of then. Master Dick? Is the young lady getting over her distress?"

"Everything's fine, Alf."

Alfred almost gave him a look—almost because this was Alfred and he'd never intrude, but he came close and Dick was made more than aware that the old man didn't believe a word of it.

"Hey, Alf? It's okay." Dick gave him a look he hoped was reassuring and to which Alfred just nodded in acknowledgement before closing the door behind him. As he walked down the corridor he heard Dick's private line ringing again.

TBC

18


	5. Part 5

Title: My Richard. Part five

Author: Simon

Characters: Dick/OC

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Dick and Laura break up

Warnings: None

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Feedback: Hell, yes. 

Thanks again, Jim.

**My Richard**

Part Five 

Laura was released late Saturday afternoon. She was picked up by her parents and sent away with tranquilizers and antidepressants and sleeping pills (all carefully regulated), and strict orders that she must keep her twice-a-week appointment with her therapist or she would endanger her recovery. Her parents promised that she would attend. She remained out of school for an additional two weeks.

Though there had been some rumors at the high school about what had happened, no one officially said anything other than that she wasn't feeling well, and so the rumors died as soon as something else happened to take it's place in the gossip mill. Dick, however, didn't miss the looks and whispers in the halls or the cafeteria, and especially in the locker room. Jim Harrison had the balls to come up and ask him if it was true that Laura was out because she was having an abortion and it had gone wrong somehow. Dick's response was a less than articulate, 'Fuck off'.

Laura had been hospitalized on a Tuesday; she began calling Dick the next day. He'd spoken to her a couple of times, but after that he'd let the machine pick up for him. He just plain didn't want to talk to her.

When Dick got home from school Wednesday there were thirty-seven messages on his answering machine when he'd checked after his usual workout. On Thursday there were forty-two and on Friday there were sixty-three. Most of the messages were short, asking him to call her, telling him that she missed him, wondering what he was doing. Those were the first third or so, the second third were accusing him of screwing around with anything that moved, of avoiding her and their baby. She would scream and rant—insisting he wanted her to vanish and take their son with her so he wouldn't have to deal with anything that would upset his sugar daddy. The last third of the messages would be tearful, contrite, begging him to call her, talk to her, please let her know that he still loved her.

When Dick unplugged his phone the hand-written messages and deliveries began. There were flowers, candy, and balloons. There were dozens of notes and cards on Thursday and Friday, all hand delivered by messenger. Even Dick wondered how much this was all costing and where she was getting the money or the credit card. She had lunch delivered to him at school. Knowing that his schedule was too full for him to eat lunch on Thursdays, she'd had pizza delivered for him to the office. It was pepperoni with extra cheese, his favorite and there was enough for him to hand it out to a few friends. A couple of them wanted to know how they could get a deal like that and Dick just gave a half smile.

He didn't tell anyone at home about the calls or the pizza. Alfred knew about the letters and the presents, but would never say anything. Well, not unless things became really dire. Bruce asked one night as they sat down to dinner if he was alright and Dick's "Fine" was taken at face value. The question wasn't repeated though Bruce privately thought that Dick was looking a little tense. Of course he knew that Laura still had problems, but somehow had clumped them into the category of 'kid stuff', something that would blow over and was probably just a case of teenaged hysterics. God knew that even Dick had his drama queen moments—all those years of living in show business, no doubt. He always got over them sooner or later, Laura would, too. Besides, there was no real way for Bruce know it was really about Laura. Dick had schoolwork to deal with, he was leading the Titan's—the boy had a lot on his plate, enough to stress anyone.

The letters that arrived for Dick were all written on what he would later learn was Laura's personal stationary, stuff that her grandparents ordered for her every year at Christmas as a way to encourage her to write to them and keep up with her thank you notes. It was pale pink top quality linen paper, embossed with her name and came with matching envelopes.

Though he had no way of knowing it then, they would continue for years. And he would come to dread them.

She got home Saturday; he went to see her—with her parents' permission—on Sunday after lunch.

He was welcomed by Lynn Woodward and shown into the living room. Laura looked as normal as she would at any other time. She was wearing her usual jeans and a sweater, her hair was loose. She had slippers on. The only thing different about her was that she seemed a little paler than she usually did and was more nervous, almost like she was anticipating that he'd yell at her or something.

Well, truth be told, Dick wasn't feeling all that calm himself.

He wasn't sure what to say and felt awkward as she came forward to put her arms around him and kiss his cheek. His arms came up around her automatically and he was relieved to realize that she felt the same as ever. Somehow something should have been different after what had happened, but she still came up to his nose, his arms still went around her the same amount they always did.

It seemed like nothing had really changed.

"I'm so sorry. I really am. I was stupid and you should be completely angry with me." She hugged him tighter. "I guess I went a little crazy there for a while, huh?"

"It's alright, I guess everyone gets a little nuts sometimes." Well, maybe that wasn't the most tactful thing to say. "I mean, you're felling better now? You're alright?"

She nodded and kissed him again. "I'm fine. They just want me to stay home for a little while to, well, you know, settle down a little." She pushed him gently over to the couch, they both sat. "Did I miss anything in school?"

Whatever Dick was expecting, this wasn't it. She seemed so—normal, like she was just getting over a cold or something. No mention about the phone calls, nothing about the flowers or the balloons or anything. And nothing about her thinking that they'd done 'it' and that she was pregnant. Nothing.

"School's the same, people are wondering where you are."

"What did you tell them?"

"Just that you didn't feel well, that's all."

"What about the homework, did you get all the notes and stuff? I'm like a week behind and it's going to be a bitch to catch up—you know how Mr. Breslin is about things being on time."

"It should be alright, I mean, it's not like you were faking or anything."

She looked through a pile of tapes. There were all kinds of things there; Ghost, Jurassic Park, Pretty Woman, Sleepless in Seattle, Sister Act. "Do you want to watch a movie?"

He didn't care; he just wanted to see if she was really over whatever her problem was. "Sure, you pick."

She put Sleepless in Seattle in the VCR and snuggled back against him on the couch, pulling his arm around her shoulder and holding his hand. If anyone looked, they'd have seen the perfect picture of a teen couple having a quiet afternoon together.

When Lynn went in to ask if they wanted anything, she almost managed to convince herself that everything was alright. Laura looked happy, Richard seemed relaxed and the movie was a romantic fantasy, all the more proof that the boy really did care about her daughter. Otherwise why on earth would he agree to sit through that tripe on the screen?

She brought in a tray with a bowl of popcorn and a couple of glasses of cider, happy to see that things seemed to be going well.

The movie stretched endlessly as far as Dick was concerned. God, who were these neurotic idiots? They seriously needed to get lives. The movie was stupid.

Laura seemed to pick up on his boredom. She was playing with his hand, rubbing the fingers and squeezing. "You're hands are so callused."

"Gymnastics."

"I thought gymnasts used those things on their hands, those glove things."

"Grips? I don't use them. It's better to be able to feel the bars."

"Oh." She was rubbing his hands and fingers suggestively, squirming her body against his. Her free hand was in his lap, working his inner thigh. It wasn't subtle.

"Laura."

"What?"

"Cut it out."

"Cut what out?"

"It's broad daylight, your parents are around and you just got home yesterday. Watch the movie."

"Didn't you miss me?"

Not really. Besides, she'd called about a thousand times. "It was only a few days."

"But—weren't you worried about me?"

"Well, sure, but you're okay. I mean, we're sitting here. It's not like I didn't see you for years or anything." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Dick knew it was the wrong thing to say. Laura's answer was a series of silent sobs against his chest, her arms around his waist. "God, Laura, I'm sorry. Of course I missed you. You know I did, it's just that your mother or someone could walk in any minute and then it would be a mess, okay?" She was regaining her composure, a little. "Besides, if they walked in on us they'd probably make me go home, right?"

She nodded against him, placated for the moment and returning to Meg and Tom.

"So do you think we should get married?"

Well...no. "Excuse me?"

"Because of the baby, you know. I'm not that far along, but we have to think about what we're going to do. Does Bruce know?"

Jesus. And it seemed like it was going pretty well, too. "The doctors said you're not pregnant. They said they even repeated the test and it came out negative both times."

"They're stupid and they're wrong. I got pregnant that night in the pool."

"No, you didn't, not by me, anyway."

She leaned away from him, staring at him in disbelief. "You mean you're not going to help me and the baby? Your own son? Richard?"

"We never did it. We came close a couple of times, but that's all."

She sat away from him, her hands off him and curled in her lap, her head slowly shaking back and forth. "You said you loved me, you promised you'd take care of me."

No, he didn't. "Look, Laura, this never happened and this is too weird for me, okay? I think I should be going now." He had his moped with him; he could go whenever he wanted.

Her voice was calm, as if this was what she had been expecting all along. "You're walking out on us both?" She was still staring at him, seemingly unseeing. She continued as if talking to herself. "Fine. I'll be alright. I don't need you; neither of us do. I'll take care of the baby myself. You'll see, I will. I don't need anyone to help. I'll do it all myself. We'll be just fine. You go see your other girlfriend, that slut in the bikini. I know you'd rather be with her. I saw you two together. I did, you were both just waiting for me to leave so you could go off with together. I saw you. I heard you laughing about me, all of you were laughing. I heard you all. Well, you can all go to hell. All of you just go to hell. I don't need any of you..."

It went on as he got up and went to the door. Lynn Woodward was standing there, listening to the whole thing. She was stoic about what was happening, though the look on her face reminded Dick of the look he'd seen at funerals when someone had died. In a way, Laura maybe had—or was.

"Mrs. Woodward? I don't think I should come back here, alright? At least not for a while."

Her expression was understanding, sad. "Of course, honey. You know, we all know, this has nothing to do with you."

Of course it did, but he wasn't about to argue with her. "If there's anything I can do, or Bruce—let us know, alright? I'll call to see how she is in a few days."

Lynn kissed his cheek as he left.

Four days later Dick made the promised call only to learn that the number had been disconnected. A quick check showed no new number, listed or otherwise, was available. Another check told him that John Woodward had resigned his position with Wayne Corp, effective immediately, the Monday after he'd visited Laura. He found out that their house was for sale, the contents gone and the place completely empty.

The family had left with no forwarding address.

He was tempted to track them down, but decided against it. There was no point, nothing to really be gained. If he needed to at some point, he could. He hoped, genuinely hoped, that Laura would get better.

He doubted it, though.

His life settled back down to its old patterns; school, homework, training, patrolling, the Titans then it would start all over again the next day. It was what he knew and he slowly put the unpleasantness behind him.

A year later the letters began.

TBC

11


	6. Part 6

Title: My Richard. Part six

Author: Simon

Characters: Dick/OC/the usual crew

Rating: PG-13

Summary: She's back...

Warnings: None

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Feedback: Hell, yes. 

Note: I have Dick dating a couple of girls while he's in high school that I made up. I know they're not canon, but neither are they important beyond being minor plot points here. Honest. They were just good friends and parted on good terms. He was almost a gentleman the entire time. Besides, beyond Betty Kane (does anyone remember her?) I don't think he canon dated in high school, did he? Oh, and I know that the canon Dick doesn't have a grandfather over in Europe, but I like to think that he does, so work with me here.

**My Richard**

Part Six 

**Eight and a Half Years Ago**

Usually his mail was placed on the tray by the front door so Dick could pick it up as he came in from school. This afternoon there were a couple of catalogues he didn't want, several invitations to society things he'd rather kill than attend and two personal letters, one from his grandfather over in Europe and one—hell, no. That was ridiculous.

The other letter was in a pale pink envelope with the address in rounded, feminine handwriting.

Dick hadn't seen Laura in over a year, not since that last time he'd been to her house after her release from the hospital and he'd thought that was the end of it. Her family had moved away and Bruce told him that John Woodward had asked the personnel department to forward his last check and tax information for the year to someone in Denver who turned out to be his mother.

There was no contact, no calls, and no Christmas cards. Nothing.

Until now.

Skipping his usual snack, he stuffed the mail into his backpack and went up to his room, closing the door behind him.

The letter picked up where they had left off, as if nothing bad or odd had happened. It was sort of creepy.

_**My Richard,**_

_**You don't mind if I call you that, do you? You're my Richard and you always will be mine, just like I'm yours.**_

_**I know that I hurt you when my parents made us all move away like we did with no warning or anything and I felt so badly about that but there wasn't really anything I could do about it.**_

_**They won't let me come visit you and if they knew I was writing this they'd be really pissed—so don't tell them, alright?**_

_**I completely miss you.**_

_**You know that old red sweatshirt of yours? The one with the zipper and the hood? You left it at the old house one day and I packed it when we moved. Sometimes (like every night!) I put it on before I go to bed and pretend that you're wearing it and that it's your arms around me and that we're sleeping together the way we used to.**_

_**Are you mad that I still have it? I hope not because it's what keeps me connected to you. I haven't even washed it because I think it still smells like you.**_

_**That sounds gross doesn't it?**_

_**It isn't, though. I love you so much and you were so nice to me even when I was being mean to you. You're the kindest person I know.**_

_**I told my girlfriend, Lisa, about you and she's totally jealous of me because we're in love even though we're not even together. I showed her your picture—remember that day in the backyard when you were showing me how you can do tumbling? I showed her those pictures and she thinks you're gorgeous and that your eyes are incredible.**_

_**And she hasn't even seen you in person, but don't get any ideas about her because you're mine!**_

_**I'm not supposed to tell anyone where we are, but I think that's stupid. I mean, you could just look at the postmark on the envelope and it's not like we're in a witness protection program or anything.**_

_**My Dad felt really bad about quitting his job as suddenly as he did and please tell Bruce that he really liked working for him. He hopes Bruce isn't mad or anything.**_

_**And say hello to Alfred for me. Okay? He's such a sweetheart.**_

_**I'll write you. I miss you.**_

_**Maybe someday I'll surprise you and just tap you on the shoulder—would you like that? I promise that we'll get together really soon.**_

_**I love you, I love you, I love you,**_

_**Laura.**_

Jesus.

This was just what he needed; just when he finally hadn't even thought about her in a couple of months and was starting to go out with Blair.

Sighing, he was about to toss the thing in the trash when something made him get a file folder and put the letter inside. He looked at the postmark—Chicago and three days ago. Well, maybe he'd do some research down in the Cave later.

Like he needed this.

After dinner he told Bruce he had to look up some things for school and accessed the Cave computers. Yes, there was a real estate transaction from eleven months ago in a suburb of Chicago. It was a townhouse on Lake Michigan; selling price was just over four hundred thousand dollars. The buyers were John and Lynn Woodward. The mortgage was held by a local bank. John listed his employer as the Merchandise Mart of Chicago on the application.

So that's where he'd gone, though without references, Dick wondered how he got himself hired.

He started looking through school enrollment records to see where Laura was going to school, but didn't find anything. Maybe she was being tutored or something. Maybe she had dropped out. Whatever. And, yes, James Woodward was still listed as a student at Yale. He was a sophomore this year.

Well, no reason to tell Bruce about any of this. Maybe she'd just write that one letter and leave him alone.

Maybe she found another boyfriend.

Maybe she'd finally kill herself.

God.

She was still nuts and she was still after him after all this time and she was saying that she might turn up at any second. Just what he needed.

He had trouble sleeping that night and Alfred asked him if he didn't feel well when he came down, late, for breakfast. No, he was fine, he had just been up late working on that AP English essay that was due in a couple of days. He was fine and no, he wasn't really hungry, either. Toast was enough and maybe some juice or something.

Two days later there was another letter on the hall table. Again, he read it in the privacy of his room.

_**My Richard,**_

_**I was talking to Gail back at Briarcliff a few minutes ago and I'm pretty upset. She said that you took that bitch Blair to the prom and you promised that you were going to take me, remember? Last year? Sound familiar?**_

_**Well, sure I know that I'm not there and it's not like you called me to arrange anything, but you could have stayed home or gone with some of the guys or something like that. Gail said that you two were dancing and dressed up and that you were even kissing her.**_

_**At first I couldn't believe it! I mean—you kissed that cow? But then I thought about it a little and I figured that since Blair's father works for Bruce—like who doesn't?—you probably were pressured into taking her to the stupid dance even though you'd probably rather stay home if I couldn't be there with you. You probably had to give her a peck on the cheek or something just to be polite and not hurt her feelings, right?**_

_**I know that!**_

_**You wouldn't two-time me. I know I was upset with you for a while about that Donna pig, but I know that even though she was coming on to you like crazy, you weren't really interested.**_

_**I bet she would have put out for you, though.**_

_**Did Blair? Give you get what you wanted? Like anyone could refuse you. You just look at them with your amazing eyes and they know how hot your body is and how smart you are—not to mention rich—and they just melt all over, don't they?**_

_**I bet you have them waiting in line for your fabulous self.**_

_**You getting what you want, Richard? **_

_**Are you?**_

_**I'm not there so you go hunting wherever you can get it, don't you? You're a pig, just like every boy I've ever gone out with. You are.**_

_**I hate you. Don't call me again. I mean it. I'll hang up on you if you do and I'll tell my parents that you're bothering me again.**_

_**Oh, and the baby, OUR baby you said never happened? I had an abortion so you don't have to worry about that anymore, either.**_

_**Laura.**_

Jesus, she was getting nuts again. Or maybe she was just still nuts. Either way, this wasn't good.

Maybe this time she'd leave him alone since she was so pissed. And that thing with Blair? All they'd done was kiss a couple of times while they were dancing that night. It was a nonevent. He was so completely not into putting on a show at a country club dance with all the local dowagers chaperoning and trying to see whom the Wayne circus rat was sticking it to. Like he needed that. He and Blair hadn't done anything until he'd driven her back to her house after the party after the dance. Okay, sure, then they'd had a pretty good time, but it was completely in private and that was the way he preferred to keep it. And besides, he'd learned from Bruce. The last thing he needed was a paternity suit before he was even out of high school. He was always careful about these things. Always. In fact that was a habit that would stay with him for the rest of his life and not just with sex.

She had an abortion? For God's sake, she wasn't even pregnant, at least not when she left Gotham, anyway.

She was nuts.

So what to do now? This was two letters in just a couple days. Tell Bruce? Yeah, right. Like he would do that if there was anyway in hell to avoid it. Go see Barbara and see the look on her face when he admitted that he had girl trouble? Not in this lifetime. Wander down to the kitchen and mention things to Alfred? Like Alf didn't have enough to worry about with him and Bruce going out almost every night and now with Joker loose again and Harvey Dent making noises...no.

His phone now was connected to a new unlisted number, changed after the mess with Laura started last year. At least she wouldn't be able to call him thirty times a day. Checking his address book, he dialed.

"May I speak to Dr. Thompkins, please? This is Dick Grayson."

After a couple of minutes she came on the line. "This is a pleasant surprise, is everything alright, dear?"

"Well, um, could I maybe come in and talk to you tomorrow or this week? There's sort of something going on."

"Of course you can come talk to me. You always can, you know that. Come after school tomorrow, is that soon enough? You could come over right now if it's urgent, dear."

"No, it's, um—Maybe I could come over during lunch tomorrow? I have a study hall right after and it's a double, there's lots of time."

If she was surprised by his anxiousness, she hid it well. "That would be fine. I'll see you then."

"Thanks, Dr. Leslie."

The next day he sat down in the client chair across her desk. Leslie Thompkins had a couple of sandwiches and a couple of bottles of fruit juice sitting there. "Ham and cheese or roast beef and orange juice or apple, take your pick."

He went with the Ham and cheese and apple juice. He knew Leslie loved roast beef.

"Now tell me why you're here, dear."

That's why Dick liked Leslie; down to earth, no nonsense, no false anything, just what's your problem and how are we going to fix it?

Quickly he ran through the last year and a half—his meeting Laura, their dating during most of the school year and finally how she began to become unreasonably jealous over his talking with any other girl than her and the reactions. He told Leslie about the pool with the other Titans, about her throwing soup on Marcia and about her overdose. Dick finished with the Woodward family leaving suddenly and her history of this happening before—or something similar, anyway, with a guy at her previous school. Finally he pulled the folder out of his backpack and showed her the two letters. She read them silently and looked up at him. "You're right, you have a problem." Putting the letters back in the folder and handing them across the desk she took a breath. "You know that you're being stalked, don't you?"

He nodded. "I don't want to tell Bruce or Alfred unless I have to. I can handle this. Okay?"

"It's not as simple as you think, Dick. You know enough to understand that."

"I know that."

"Has she actually threatened you physically, or anyone else; Bruce or Alfred?"

"No."

"Then you know that the law can't help you, especially if she's living in another state. The most you could hope for would be the Chicago police stopping by her house for a talk or something along those lines." She pulled a sheaf of papers from her drawer. "Stalking. I want you to sit there while I go over this with you."

The stats were frightening.

Almost a million and a half stalking victims a year in the US, roughly eighty percent of them women. Half of women being stalked obtained a restraining order, eighty percent of these were violated. Less than twenty percent of male victims reported their stalking to the police. Of the cases prosecuted, roughly half were convicted and slightly more than sixty percent served time. Most women were stalked by an intimate partner; men were more likely to be stalked by a stranger. Over half of the stalking victims were young adults between sixteen and twenty-nine. About forty-five percent of victims received overt threats, seventy-five percent were followed or spied on, and thirty percent had property vandalized.

Most stalking cases lasted less than a year, but in some cases they continued as long as eight or even ten years.

About a third of stalking victims seek psychological counseling.

"You also need to know that you're almost a textbook profile of a the type of stalking called 'erotomania'. I'm sure that's what this is. That's when the stalker, usually a female, has the delusional belief that their victim passionately loves them. The victim is usually of a higher socio-economic class. They're like the obsessed fans who go after celebrities"

"Like that woman who was breaking into David Letterman's house and thought she was his wife?"

"That's right. This girl, Laura, thinks you're in love with her and that you're destined to be together. She's going to try to make that happen."

"So this isn't going to just go away, is it?"

"You didn't think it would, did you? She's going to try to woo you, or make you understand that you should be with her or some such. You may get flowers, gifts. You'll probably get a lot of letters. If you don't respond or don't give her the response she wants she may move to threats. If she's upset enough, the threats won't be empty ones."

"Jesus."

"It's a progression; 'I'll prove to you how much I love you, I can make you love me, if I can't have you no one will.'"

"Is there a time table for this?"

Leslie sipped her juice. "There's no way to predict it, dear. It's always different."

"So what do I do?"

"First of all, you should tell Bruce and Alfred—don't give me that look. You know you should. Second, don't respond to her. Don't answer her letters, if she calls, hang up. Don't even say 'hello'. If you see her on the street, don't acknowledge her. Don't acknowledge any present. No response at all to anything—unless she issues a direct threat, then you call Jim Gordon and file a complaint."

"What about calling her parents? Letting them know what's going on?"

"If it continues, that's another option but if they already know she has a problem and this is still happening, I doubt it will do much good."

Dick stood up; he had to start back to school. "This is getting really creepy, y'know?"

"And she's already angry because she thinks you ignored her when she was carrying your baby. You be careful or I'll tell Bruce whether you want me to or not."

"What about 'patient confidentiality'?"

"Don't you try that with me. I know you too well. If I think you're in danger, I'll do what I have to so you're safe." She walked him to the back door and gave him a hug. "You be careful and I want updates on this, do you understand?"

He nodded.

When he got back to the manor that afternoon there was another letter on the table.

TBC

15


	7. Part 7

Title: My Richard. Part Seven

Author: Simon

Characters: Dick/OC

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Dick graduates High School.

Warnings: None

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Feedback: Hell, yes. 

Thanks again, Jim.

Dick's grandfather makes a very small appearance here. I know, I know. I just like him. Bear with me.

**My Richard**

Part Seven 

Seven years ago 

Dick had been getting two or three letters a week from Laura since they started arriving over a year before—and that had been almost a year and a half since the two of them first started seeing each other. One way or another, he'd now been dealing with her for almost three years.

_**My Richard,**_

I was so excited this week that I could hardly stay in my skin! I was walking down the hall at school yesterday (yes, I'm back in a regular high school and it's stupid, but I guess they all are) and I saw a guy from the back who had the most incredible shoulders and the straightest black hair and the cutest butt...I thought that you'd come to see me and I ran all the way over to him and kissed him before I even got a good look at him!

_**Talk about surprised!**_

_**It wasn't you, but he looked so much like you I pretended for a minute. You're better looking, of course, and he didn't have your beautiful eyes.**_

_**Then I found out that he's a football player and kind of a jerk and that made me mad so I wrote him a note that told him he should be as nice as you are. He just laughed and I hate him...**_

He was a senior in high school now, it was early spring and he would be eighteen soon. He was waiting for his college acceptances, coasting out his last year and embracing Senior Slump.

Leslie Thompkins hadn't told Bruce or Alfred, but Dick knew that if she became alarmed about anything new, she would pick up the phone and then he'd have a real mess to deal with. Because of this, he talked to her, but he didn't tell her everything. He didn't tell her that he'd begun getting letters addressed to him but delivered to the school office. Alfred thought that he was only getting the one or two a month that came to the house—and he thought that was too much, even making the odd comment about the amount of mail the young master seemed to be receiving lately. If Alf or Leslie found out that he was really getting closer to a dozen a month or more, they would have stepped in and Dick didn't want that to happen. The last thing he wanted was to deal with Bruce when he was in Bat Protective Mode.

It was still his problem, damnit. He would handle it. And besides, they were just letters. It wasn't that big a deal.

It really wasn't.

_**My Richard,**_

_**I thought about you all weekend. Remember that day it was snowing and we swam in the indoor pool then kissed in the Jacuzzi? I think that may be my favorite memory...**_

Bruce seemed to have back-burnered the whole thing. That surprised Dick for a while and then he realized that he didn't know why that should bother him. Bruce always pretty much assumed that he was alright, and if he wasn't, then Alfred would say something. No news is good news and all that.

He had told Bruce that everything was fine; that he had it under control and Bruce had—maybe stupidly—taken him at his word. Dick never told him about the letters in the pink envelopes that showed up in the Manor mailbox every couple of weeks and evidently neither did Alfred. If either of the two men knew anything about the ongoing situation, no one said anything to Dick. It was sort of like the elephant in the living room. No one talked about it so it wasn't really there.

In the almost two years since Laura had moved away there had been no direct contact between them. There had been letters, hundreds of letters, but she hadn't shown up or called or anything like that. There had been no face-to-face meetings and Dick somehow saw that as a positive sign. He was able, almost, to put her in the back of his mind, almost able to forget about her for weeks at a time. He dated girls in school, but there was nothing serious and he was too busy with college admissions and his work with Batman and the Titans to give it much thought.

So long as he didn't give much thought to the letters, that was. He'd open them, skim through them since they all said pretty much the same thing, then stick them in the file he'd started for them. He'd had to open a second file, in fact, but he chose not to think about that, either.

Well, usually.

Most of his social life, such as it was, revolved around the Titans—well, after saving the world, or some part of it.

They would do their thing then hang out for pizza or a movie or something. Garth would often have Tula with him and sometimes Dick was jealous seeing how happy they were together and wished, a little wistfully, that he had something, someone like that. It was obvious; they'd get married at some point, have a home and kids. They hadn't actually planned it all out but they were so damn happy together. They were going to make it. They would be one of those couples you see celebrating their sixtieth wedding anniversary surrounded by a hundred kids and grand children and great grand children. That would be them and Dick had a feeling he'd be there at the party stag.

Donna was with Roy and Wally, well, he seemed to have a cornfed girl back home but Dick was always too busy to really get serious about anyone.

Sure, he'd had a crush on Barbara since he was like twelve, but that's all it was and he knew she'd never look twice at him. He was too young, too short, too, too nerdish and too much of a workaholic for her to be interested. Maybe someday it would happen, but no time soon. Until then, if 'then' ever happened, at least they were friends. That was something.

_**My Richard,**_

_**I was in the mall today and I saw this woman pushing a stroller. She sort of looked like me with long blonde hair and she had the cutest little boy. He didn't look anything like her; he had dark hair and blue eyes. They weren't as blue as yours, but I started thinking that someday that will be me with our baby...**_

He'd dated Blair, a girl in his class, for a couple of months the year before, but she'd gotten annoyed with him for always having other obligations with Bruce or something and there was so much that he had to keep secret that he always felt like he was only half there when they were together. Blair felt the same way and thought that he was still thinking about Laura and making comparisons. He wasn't, but Blair kept it in the back of her mind and it bothered her a lot. They'd go to a party or something and he'd have one ear listening for his beeper to go off because Bruce needed him for back up or maybe to hit some stupid society thing with him where Bruce wanted him to wave the Wayne Corp flag. Finally he and Blair had agreed that it wasn't working and ended it. They stayed friends, though, and that was good. They still liked one another, they even went out together, they just weren't a couple.

He hated doing that, going to the parties and the receptions, but Bruce insisted that he make these appearances and said that he had to learn how to deal with social situations.

He hated the pretensions and the patronization that was always aimed at him. He was Bruce's charity case, the orphan, and the circus rat who needed a home. He disliked the conspicuous consumption and the hypocrisy and he was uncomfortable with the employees and their spouses sucking up to him to get on Bruce's good side. And, of course, there were the old rumors, the ones about why a single man would take in a young boy. He hated them, but had learned to mostly ignore them. That didn't mean he didn't hear the comments, though. Usually he'd arrive late and leave as soon as was possible after spending as much time as he could either in a corner or talking with Lucius or someone he could stand. Bruce, of course, was always too busy to pay any attention. As long as he made an appearance he was usually alright for a while on that score.

_**My Richard,**_

_**My Dad was talking last night at dinner about how much he had liked working at Wayne Corp and how he missed the East Coast. I told him that he should go back, but he just gave me a funny look and said something about 'water under the bridge'.**_

_**I think he should write Bruce a letter, don't you? I mean, Dad is sort of weird about it because he's 'Bruce Wayne, Zillionaire', but I tried to tell him that Bruce is really nice. **_

_**Well, I think he should call, but I don't think he will. Maybe you could talk to Bruce over dinner or something?...**_

He was coming to realize that he really wasn't all that interested in business. He knew, he'd known since he was like twelve that Bruce semi-expected him to get an MBA then eventually take over Wayne Enterprises at some point. The thing was that he didn't want to have the office down the hall from Mr. Wayne CEO, not at all and certainly not for a very long time at the very least.

He didn't know how to tell Bruce that. Bruce would suck it up and bury it behind his usual smooth mask, but he'd be hurt and disappointed and Dick couldn't do that, not after everything Bruce had done for him and given him.

He couldn't.

So he applied to a bunch of schools with an eye to major in Business and Economics and all of that boring stuff. It was the least he could do for Bruce.

He could still be Robin. He'd be fine.

Dick became even closer to the Titans as the year wore on. He and Wally would sit around just shooting the bull for hours. Sometimes Roy would be there, too. They'd hang out at one of the Manor pools or someplace, talking, trading secrets and hopes and all of that. It was as close to just being himself as he could get.

They'd talk about Titan stuff, how hot Donna was, what would happen to Garth if Arthur finally really flipped out, school, pizza, movies, their various parents and guardians—all the usual stuff.

The one thing Dick never brought up were the on going letters from Laura. He didn't tell anyone about them. One day Roy asked what had happened to Laura and Dick just said that her family had moved. That closed the subject and no one pursued it. Wally may have given him an odd look, but he kept his mouth shut for once. Thank God.

The letters from the colleges came. Dick was accepted to every place he applied, opting to go to Hudson. He took little pleasure in winning places at the schools, though, convinced that no one would have the balls to turn down the Wayne money. He may have been right about that, but his grades were good and he had nothing to be ashamed about on that score, much as he didn't really believe it.

The truth was that he was only going to college at all because Bruce had assumed that he would and it was never open for discussion. Or at least Dick never felt that it was, anyway. He just went along.

_**My Richard,**_

_**Have you decided where you're going to school next year? You're so smart that you could go anywhere. Wouldn't it be funny if we went to the same place? We could get a cute apartment together and walk to classes and then after I cooked dinner (or maybe once in a while you could cook!), we could do our schoolwork together. **_

Wouldn't that be great?... 

_**I'm thinking about going to Boston U. Have you made your choice yet? I could always change mine if you wanted...**_

The school year, his high school career, finally ended after finals, a senior class trip to the shore (where he met up with Garth who was surfing with some other Atlans) and the graduation dance he took Blair to as just friends. The night of the graduation ceremony was clear and not too hot. The ceremony was held outside and there was a full moon.

Bruce was there, of course, and Alfred. Leslie had shown up for a while before being called away and Barbara was there on the other side of Bruce. Dick received awards in math and science and wore the gold cords indicating that he was a member of the Honor Society. They took the usual pictures and Alfred looked as happy as any grandparent there. Bruce ignored the stares he got wherever he went and Barbara kissed Dick on the cheek—not exactly what he would have chosen himself.

Afterwards there was another dance at one of the local country clubs that Dick again attended with Blair. They had settled into simply being friends with no bad feelings between them. In fact she hoped to pair him up with her friend, Sarah, and Dick wasn't fighting it too hard.

They ended up with about eight classmates, the ones Dick had hung out with, all coming back to the Manor for a swim about two in the morning. There were enough bathing suits in the pool house and it was a reasonably clean night—one couple disappearing into the greenhouse and another into the garden not-withstanding. With Blair's prompting, Dick and Sarah finally got to really talk and he said he'd call her later—maybe in a day or so. The ended up dating all summer.

It wasn't a grand passion, but she was a nice girl and they had fun together.

_**My Richard,**_

_**What are you doing this summer? Are you working? Are you taking classes? My father thought that you might be doing something with Wayne Corp, some kind of apprenticeship or something like that. Are you?**_

_**I'm working at the mall at this really cute boutique. In fact I found this really beautiful shirt I got for you and I'm going to send it as soon as I get it out of layaway.**_

_It so incredible—it's silk and the exact color of your eyes. You'll look awesome in it..._

Dick divided his summer between a couple of different things. He visited his grandfather in Europe and they took a two-week road trip through Switzerland and Austria, stopping for a few days in Northern Italy. They did some backpacking and a little low mountain climbing—more hikes than mountain climbing, really. They stopped in at some museums where Papa showed Dick some of what had happened to the Gypsies during World War Two. Hitler had lumped them in with the races to be exterminated. A good part of the family had died in the gas chambers after being shipped to Poland in 1945 and his grandfather had barely escaped, surviving only because the camp had been liberated soon after he'd arrived.. Dick had known that, but in a detached way. Seeing the pictures and the memorabilia with his grandfather brought it home as the old man talked about his brother and parents being lost.

After that Dick flew from Vienna to Paris to catch up with Haley Circus. Alfred had forwarded the message to him while he was still on the road in Austria. There had been an accident, though nothing fatal, just one of those things. He spent a month filling in for Franz, one of the current flyers, who was recovering from separated shoulders after a fall. Dick threw his quad again and—damn—it felt good. The crowds, the smells, the endless practice and hours.

God, he loved it. He'd forgotten how much and he was welcomed with opened arms. A good number of the circus family had known him ten years before and they treated him like the Prodigal.

By the third week of August he had to head back to the States. He had to get ready for school and he knew that the break wasn't going to be an easy one. Bruce and Alfred—of course he'd see them again and a lot, but he knew that it wouldn't be the same.

He wanted to horde the last few days they'd all have together. He knew it was a cliché, but it was true. This was a breaking point, both an end and a beginning. He'd have to leave again ten days after his plane landed. He'd take another plane up to school. Things would be different after that; he wouldn't be someone Bruce would automatically think of as a kid. He'd be an adult. Well, more of an adult, anyway.

It would be an adjustment for them all.

_My Richard,_

_I found out from my friend Becca that you're in the freshman class at Hudson. She had this book with all the freshmen listed and there you were with a picture. You're the handsomest boy in the class—I checked! That's so great! I'll be able to come visit you because I'll be going to see Becca anyway._

_Do you think I could stay in your dorm or should we get a room somewhere? Whichever you want is fine with me, you know that. And I have that shirt I got you. I can't wait to see you wearing it—in fact I can't wait to see you not wearing it..._

TBC

14


	8. Part 8

Title: My Richard. Part Eight

Author: Simon

Characters: Dick/OC

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Hudson University.

Warnings: None

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Feedback: Hell, yes. 

Thanks again, Jim.

**My Richard**

Part Eight 

Hudson University 

"Who's that creepy girl over there?"

"What creepy girl?"

"The one who's been staring at you since we walked in here. Over there, the one in the white shirt."

Dick looked across the student grill to the table by the window Lori was focused on.

Jesus H Fucking Christ.

He tried for calm, with enough success that no one seemed to notice his hands were now sweating. "She's an old high school girlfriend. Her name's Laura. She mentioned something about maybe visiting the campus this semester. I think some friend of hers goes here."

"Well she looks like she wants to be your puppy dog and follow you anywhere." Lori was still watching Laura. "Do you want to say hello to her?"

"I'm hungry and then I have to get to class."

Lori smiled at him. "She's that bad, huh?"

Dick made a conscious effort to turn his head away from where Laura was sitting with a couple of other girls, all of them checking him out. "C'mon, let's get something to eat."

"Dick did you two break up with a big fight or something? You look like you're about to bolt for the door any second. We could go to the cafeteria in the dorm if you'd rather eat there."

Laura was not going to make him change his life or where he ate lunch or whom he hung out with. She wasn't, damnit. "No, this is good. Just get on line, I'm hungry."

Lori Elton and Dick had connected during registration and the freshman orientation. They had both been invited to a lot of the same get-acquainted parties and cookouts and both realized pretty quickly that not only were they attracted to one another, but they'd been invited to the things they were because they both came from rich families. The Elton's may not be quite in Bruce's league, but they could certainly hold their own with your basic run-of-the-mill rich folk. Evidently the Administration wanted to make sure that donations wouldn't be pulled or that the kids didn't transfer somewhere else because they didn't feel sufficiently wanted or welcomed. Instead of the usual hot dogs and hamburgers, their cookouts featured shrimp and London broil. Instead of a jukebox, they had live bands.

Whatever.

The kids they were trying to impress knew the score. They knew when they were being sucked up to and why and none of them thought for a second it mattered in the least.

It was now the week before Thanksgiving and though Dick wasn't thrilled with either his classes or being in college, he liked Lori enough that he hadn't just packed up and left. Well, that was part of the reason, anyway.

In fact, he had known from almost the first week that this just flat out wasn't the place he wanted to be or what he wanted to be doing, but he couldn't tell Bruce, at least not yet.

He'd be fair, give it at least a few months or so and then see how he felt. Besides, if he dropped out, he wasn't going to let Bruce know about it over the phone. The bare minimum he owed the man was to tell him face-to-face. Thanksgiving was coming up in a couple of weeks, maybe that would be the time to do it. And he had to stick it out long enough to make sure that he wasn't just going through the usual freshman adjustment problems—though with his background and all, he thought that was pretty unlikely.

And while it was true he didn't like his classes—no point in saying that he hated everything about them— maybe if he kept at them he'd find something about Economics or Management Strategies that didn't completely suck. Maybe he would. It could happen. Maybe.

Okay, that was about as likely as a snowball having a long-term lease in hell, but it could happen.

Or not.

And now Laura was here. Great.

He'd been getting letters from her almost daily, delivered to his college mailbox. Sometimes there'd be two or three a day from her; all on that same pink paper in those same pink envelopes.

The letters were all pretty much the same; she'd tell him she loved him, missed him. Did he miss her? When was he going to call her? Was he angry with her? Did he like school...and so on. They all said the same thing in different ways.

Then about a month ago there was something different. He opened his box and along with the three letters was a cassette. Oh, great, just what he wanted.

Against his better judgment, he put the thing into a Walkman and pushed 'play'.

"_**Hey there, my Richard. I bet you didn't think that you'd be hearing from me like this, did you? Well, I decided to be a little different this time and see if you wanted to hear my voice again—I bet you did, didn't you?**_

"I bet you almost forgot the sound of my voice, but I haven't forgotten the sound of yours, not for a second, not for a single one. I hear your voice all the time. I never told you, but whenever we talked on the phone, at least when I was at my house, I'd turn on that tape recorder my Dad had to record conversations with his clients and I listen to those tapes over and over. You were so funny in some of them that I still laugh every time I listen to them! And then there are others where you were sad or something and those tapes always make me cry.

"_**I know, that sounds really stupid, doesn't it? I was listening to one of them just a little while ago and that's how I got the idea to make you a tape. Do you like it? I think it's more personal this way, somehow.**_

"_**Remember the night we were out in that rose garden Alfred treats like it was sacred ground? We were just sort of strolling around and I was smelling the flowers and all of that and you were telling me about what it was like when you lived with your parents.**_

"_**God, that was like the best night. You were really serious but you were telling me things I bet you hardly ever told anyone before and you made me feel so special—talking about how your father was always so careful whenever he caught you or your mother during the circus stuff. I bet that you're a lot like he was. You're so careful about people and you never do anything that would hurt anyone's feelings or anything—not like other people...**_

"_**And then you were telling me about some of the other people who traveled around with you, that animal trainer with the German name and that big elephant you liked and the man who owned the whole thing—you sounded like you were talking about your family or something instead of a bunch of people you worked with..."**_

There was the sound of some soft music starting in the background, some kind of classical, maybe Bach, Dick wasn't too sure.

"_**I love this music, don't you love it? I thought that maybe we could have this played at our wedding—would you like that? **_

"_**I remember you told me that your family was Catholic, or your mother was or something, so I thought that we could have the Ave Maria and then 'Here Comes the Bride' and then, I don't know...whatever you want, okay? We'll talk about it.**_

"_**My parents aren't Catholic but I'll just tell them that it's your wedding, too, so they'll have to just deal with it.**_

"_**Do you have a regular priest?**_

"_**Oh, that's another thing. I was talking to my friend up there with you at Hudson—you remember? Anyway, I was talking to Becca last night and she said that she'd seen you around campus with some girl and you were acting like she was your girlfriend or something. **_

"_**God, I can't believe that you're still doing this after you know how upset I was last time—you remember that 'friend' of yours? That bikini bitch Donna? Jesus, you don't really think I'm going through that again, do you?**_

"_**You go away for a couple of months and you're already sleeping with anything in a skirt, aren't you? What is she; low priced spread? You're a damn whore, you know that?**_

"_**I know what you are, you're just a slut and if you think I'm going to put up with this again you're out of your mind. And who is she, this Lori? You think I don't know who you're screwing? You think I don't know what you're doing? Does Bruce know what he's getting for his money with you up there all by yourself?**_

"_**By yourself? Right, like you're alone a single minute you don't want to be—the great Richard Grayson, doing anything and anybody he wants—all he has to do is smile and blink his big blue eyes and anyone he wants just falls at his feet or into his great big bed.**_

"You're a whore. I hope you end up with AIDS or something..." 

There was more, but Dick didn't bother to listen and from then on, along with the daily letters, he'd receive a tape or two a week and they were all the same.

Now and then it occurred to him that maybe all of this crap had something to do with the fact that he hated college.

The day after he saw Laura in the grill he came back to his boarding house room after classes to find a gift-wrapped package leaning against his door. Amazingly it hadn't been stolen and seemed intact—no one had even opened the thing. There was a pink envelope taped to the paper.

Shit.

Opening it against his better judgment, he found the shirt Laura had told him about last summer, the one she had bought for him because it was a perfect match for his eyes. It was heavy china silk, almost dense in his fingers but still fluid enough to flow like blue mercury. It had a Rive Gauche label and Dick had to admit that it was even up to Bruce's standards. It was pretty damn nice and had probably put a good hole in several hundred dollars.

Reluctantly, he picked up the attached letter. It was just one sheet.

"_**My Richard,**_

_**I promised you, didn't I?**_

_**Wear it for me tonight, please? I have special plans for us.**_

_**I love you,**_

Laura" 

Christ. He picked up his phone.

"Lori? Look, something came up and I need a favor. Is it alright if I stay at your place for a couple of days? I sort of need to get out of my room for a while...Yeah, thanks...I'll be over in a few minutes."

Two days after that he was walking out of Lori's dorm room, headed for his 8:30 Statistics lecture, when he was jumped from behind as he got to the elevator. He felt something hard hit his shoulder and reacted like he would if he was in the middle of a mugging.

"You bastard, you bastard, you son of a bitch—after you knew all the trouble I went to for you and you didn't even have the courtesy, the damn good manners to even leave me a note. You didn't even think of all the trouble I went to, did you? You just wanted to screw your slut here—that's all you wanted, that's all you ever wanted. You're just like every other guy in the world, that's all you are."

Dick managed to get her off of him and face down on the ground without hurting her, his hands and weight pinning her. If he knew anything, it was how to immobilize someone and Laura realized she had absolutely no chance of getting up until he let her. It seemed to make her angrier, but there was nothing she could do about it other than breathe hard and glare at anyone whose eye she caught. By now a small crowd of girls from the floor had gathered and after a few minutes more of Laura's ranting, she quieted down to silence, seemingly almost embarrassed to be the center of attention, her anger temporarily gone.

"Dick, do you want me to call security?"

And then Bruce would find out and after that he'd probably be forced to move to a different college to make a fresh start and then he'd be stuck in college for at least four years.

"No, I think it's alright." He loosened his grip slightly. "If I let you up will you behave?" She nodded and he moved aside.

"Why didn't you show up? I had dinner and everything ready for you. I brought it over to you and I had everything planned. It was going to be perfect." She no longer seemed angry, just sad, pleading and not understanding why he had stood her up.

Dick put his arm around her shoulders to lead her away from the dozen or so girls who were watching them and tried very hard to be kind to her. "We're over, Laura. We're not going to get back together."

"But..."

"That was over three years ago. It's not going to happen, Laura. I'm seeing someone else now and you need to leave. You're not a student here."

"But you said you loved me, you said it. I heard you."

He really didn't want to hurt her. She was sick, he felt sorry for her and he wanted this to all be over and done with. He just wanted her to go away.

"You have to stop writing to me, okay? And you can't buy me presents or send me things, alright? I won't open anything, I'll just sent it back to you or throw it out. No more, alright?"

"Why, is she better than me? Is she better in bed?"

God. "Laura...that's enough. You have to leave me alone now."

"Richard..."

"You keep saying that you love me. If you do then do what I want, leave me alone. Please, Laura."

"But..."

"If you love me, you'll do as I ask."

She looked at the floor and nodded then walked to the stairwell and pushed the door open, going down the stairs.

When he went back to tell Lori that the other girl had gone and knowing that he'd now be late to class, they were interrupted by the RA. "You do both know that there are no overnight guests of the opposite sex permitted, don't you? Good. I could write you both up for this."

Dick was just so not in the mood for this. "Are you going to?"

"That girl been hassling you for long?"

He nodded. "A couple of years."

"And she said she'll leave you alone after this?"

"That's what she said." Of course that was a long-shot, but he could get lucky.

"Are you going home tomorrow for the long weekend? Good. With any luck she'll leave then. You move back to wherever you live after tonight, you got that? Good."

He didn't see or hear from Laura again before he left for the break. Maybe she'd given up.

Dick arrived at the Manor around three the next afternoon. It had been almost three months since he'd been back and he was surprised by how much he had missed the place—and Bruce and Alfred.

He missed walking into the kitchen to seeing and smelling Alfred cooking something incredible and he missed the space and the privacy of the huge house and grounds. He even missed Bruce's questions and Alfred's admonitions to be neat and hang up his jacket and wipe his shoes.

He had hinted to Bruce that he didn't think Hudson was the right place for him and the two of them danced around things for a couple of days before Dick finally came out and said that he'd finish out the semester and that would be it, and no, he didn't think he wanted to apply anywhere else for transfer. He wasn't completely sure what he wanted to do right now, but he had some ideas. He'd just have to see.

Bruce took it pretty well, all things considered. It was clear that he was disappointed, but he wouldn't force Dick to do something he obviously didn't want to do and so agreed that as soon as he was done with his finals, he would pack up his things and come back home, at least for a while. He could sit back a little and take stock, see what his priorities were and sort through his ideas.

There were no hard feelings and on Sunday Dick went back to the school for what he knew would be the last time.

He took a cab from the local airport and was slightly surprised to see that the boarding house was dark when they pulled up to the curb. Getting out of the car, he smelled it—charred wood and melted plastic and Christ knew what all.

There were yellow police 'crime scene' tapes across the front walk and 'unsafe' signs on what was left of the structure. The house had been gutted by fire.

TBC

14


	9. Part 9

Title: My Richard. Part Nine

Author: Simon

Characters: Dick/OC

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Dick leaves Hudson

Warnings: None

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Feedback: Hell, yes. 

Thanks again, Jim.

**My Richard**

Part Nine 

**Hudson University, Just after Thanksgiving Break**

"Oh, for Christ's sake, of course she did it. You don't think it was faulty wiring, do you?"

"Dick, calm down, c'mon. It could have been some kind of accident. You don't actually know it was her. She claims that she wasn't even in town then and there are witnesses to confirm she was at the airport almost two hours before the fire was discovered."

"And I could get witnesses to confirm I was at Lincoln's assassination."

"There is no need for sarcasm, Boy Wonder...Look, have you talked to the local cops?"

"Robin spoke to them last night. They said that there were no suspects; no indication of arson and the house was old. They also think one of the students had an illegal hot plate which could have caused the fire to start."

"And you don't believe them? Jesus, you're starting to sound paranoid, y'know."

"Bite me, Roy."

"Yeah, nice to talk to you, too. Was anyone hurt?"

"No. Everyone had either left for the break already or was in class. Oh—I think Ann's cat was killed."

"I'm over it. So, have you heard from the wackjob since it happened?"

"There was a letter for me on the bulletin board when I stopped into the office. It was just more of the same."

Dick was on a secure phone he had hidden just in case. He had to tell someone what was going on and after going through his various acquaintances he ended up calling the Titan's. Roy, fortunately or otherwise, had picked up the phone. Whatever, he needed to vent and Roy would do.

Up until now they hadn't known anymore than anyone else about the problems Dick had been having for a couple of years with Laura. He hadn't told them any more than he'd told anyone else, with the exception of Leslie and even with her he held a lot back.

They had all worked together since they were twelve years old and he hadn't said anything after that day at the Manor almost three years before, the day they had all been swimming together in the indoor pool; the day Laura had stared daggers at Donna and the Titan's all pretty much agreed that Laura was a bitch and that Dick could do better. He hadn't liked their attitude about his girlfriend and he was annoyed when they made snap decisions about her. It was rude and uncalled for and they could have understood how difficult it was for Laura to try to deal with a group of people as tight as the original Titans were. It was like trying to start a conversation with some high school clique and they tested her and—as they say—found her wanting.

Well, it turned out they were right—but he didn't know it back then.

"And this crap has been going on for a couple of years now and you're just now picking up the phone? You lose the number, did you?"

"Don't even go there."

"I'll get the others, we'll be there in a couple of hours."

"No...It's not necessary. I'll handle it myself."

"Spoken like a true disciple of the Bat."

"Just...stop. I'll take care of this."

"Okay, so what are you going to do? Find evidence linking her with the fire? Tail her? Leave town?"

"I have to finish a couple more weeks of classes then take finals. That should take me to somewhere around December twenty-first. After that I'm leaving school and going back to the Manor."

"So, what happens when you go back for the next semester? How are you going to stop her from bothering you then? And if she burned down your boarding house, how are you going to stop her from bombing your next dorm or something?"

Dick was getting seriously annoyed with Harper; the man wouldn't listen if you tied earphones over his deaf ears. "I just told you, I'm leaving school. Ending my academic career, dropping out. I'm going back to the manor."

"You're quitting? You? To do what? Polish silver with Alfred? And Bruce is okay with this? You still have your balls, do you?"

"Screw you, Roy. My night job takes time, y'know? Besides, the Manor is secure. She can't get in without us knowing she's there and I'll have the resources to stop her, do whatever I have to so that she leaves me alone."

There were a couple of moments of silence while neither of them made any of the obvious comments they could have. Finally, "Look, Rob, if you need anything, you know we're here, right? You know I'll do whatever I can to help you with this—so will the others. You know that, don't you?"

"...Yeah, I know. I'm alright, though. I'm just going to finish up here and go back to Gotham." There was another pause. "Roy? Thanks."

"It's okay, Rob. You sure you're going to be alright? You don't want us to drop in or anything?"

"No, I'm good. I just wanted to touch base, I guess."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure. I'll catch you later, okay? Hey, and Roy? Don't mention to this to the others, will you? I'd rather they didn't get involved in this."

"Why not?"

"Because it's a personal problem, it's nothing official or anything. It's just something I'll take care of myself so keep it quiet."

'Keep it quiet', that was so frigging Bat of him. He'd do it for Dick. It was stupid, but if that was what Dick wanted, well, Dick was Dick. You just did what he asked because it was him doing the asking. It was a given. "If that's what you want, sure."

He kept his word. It was what Dick wanted and so that was what he did.

Pretty much.

About ten the next evening Laura was just walking into her friend, Becca's, dorm room after seeing a campus movie. Becca was hanging out with some friends' two floors down but Laura just wasn't in the mood. They were really nice and all, but she was just in the mood to have some quiet time of her own. She'd been staying with Becca and so far everyone had been so incredibly nice to her that she was thinking about applying to the school and enrolling. That would be fun—she and Richard could get a place together or maybe they could both live in his room and...well, it would be just perfect. She loved being on the Hudson campus, it was so pretty and there were so many things to do, even if Richard was still in one of his cranky moods and wouldn't return her calls or answer her letters.

It wasn't like it was her fault that the stupid old house he was living in had burned down last week. It wasn't like she'd thrown a Molotov cocktail into the place or anything like that.

God, all she'd done was try to do something nice for him. He'd be coming back after his last class, get his stuff and then leave for the airport. That was the usual plan. Everyone told her that was what everyone did.

She was going to just be there waiting for him. She'd planned everything, it would have been so perfect, but then he ruined all her plans because he had just taken a cab straight from his last class and hadn't stopped back at his room. That wasn't her fault, was it? It wasn't like she could have predicted it or anything.

She'd been waiting in his room for him. The old lady who ran the place was really nice about opening his door for her after Laura had told the woman that she was his girlfriend and they were going to catch a plane home together. Richard had asked her to meet him there, but had forgotten that his door was locked. She opened it for her and Laura had gone in.

She started looking around.

It was a medium sized room, maybe a quarter the size of his room back at the Manor and he had the usual cheap student furnishings all students lived with and Laura was annoyed about that.

Her Richard shouldn't have to put up with that sort of thing. He should have the best—he should have silk curtains and a thick rug and the best of, well, the best of everything. And he shouldn't have just that little narrow bed. That would never do—well, any bed with Richard in it was perfect, but he should have a big bed, a comfortable one, not this stupid thing.

The only things that weren't the bare minimum were the sound system and a really nice looking computer sitting on his desk. Everything else was just standard used and beat up student furniture.

There were a couple of framed photos on the bureau she hadn't seen before, one of Bruce actually smiling and another of Alfred in the kitchen and another of an old man who looked like he could have been a relative of Richard's. That was probably the grandfather he talked about sometimes. And there was another snap, just stuck in the frame of the mirror. It was of Richard and some blondish girl. She was smiling at the camera and Richard had his arms around her from the back and was kissing her cheek, but his eyes were opened and he was smiling while he was kissing her.

That pig.

That damn pig. Two-timing her again after everything they'd been to each other. And with that cow.

She'd come to his room to surprise him, to make him happy and this is the way he thanks her? Two-timing her? Pawing that slut?

She'd just walked in to surprise him with something nice and then...well, it had been an accident. She was still looking around when she saw the present she'd gotten for him, the one she'd spent two weeks of her paycheck on and here it was, just tossed over the back of a chair with some other old clothes, just like it didn't mean anything.

It even still had the tags on it and he hadn't even tried it on. It was still sort of folded from the box.

God, it had been so perfect and he hadn't even tried it on, he'd just tossed it...

Wait.

Maybe he was waiting until she was there to see how perfect it looked on him. Maybe that was why it was still just sitting here—and he wouldn't have taken it back to the Manor because it was too special, too private between just the two of them. That was it. Of course.

He was going to invite her over after Thanksgiving to show her how wonderful it looked on him. They would look at it and she would be able to feel how sexy he was in it and then she'd help him take it off and she'd hang it up so it didn't get wrinkled or anything, and then they'd end up in that silly little bed and...it would be perfect.

She was imagining how it would be and before she knew it she had taken out the things she'd brought with her and arranged it all. There was the bottle of wine and the cheese and crackers and the scented candles—rose scented like that afternoon they'd first taken a walk at the Manor, when he'd picked that rose for her from Alfred's garden.

She lit the thing and settled back on the bed to wait. Maybe Richard would stop back here, after all. Maybe he'd forgotten something. The room was warm and she hadn't slept well the night before, planning her surprise for Richard. In less than half an hour she'd fallen asleep.

Three hours later she opened her eyes, saw the time and realized that Richard's plane had left an hour ago. She'd missed him.

She saw a notebook sitting on the desk, just a regular spiral bound notebook, and the kind anyone would have. On impulse she opened it up and, taking a pen sitting next to it, began writing.

_**My Richard,**_

_**I'm lying here on your bed and wishing that the door would open and you'd walk in, see me and not say a single word.**_

_**You'd smile and take off your jacket and come over and kiss me then you'd join me right here and we'd kiss and make love and maybe even miss the plane home for Thanksgiving because we were having such a good time and we wouldn't want to ever leave this room.**_

_**We'd just stay here for the whole weekend and order takeout to be delivered and the landlady would be scandalized because we'd never come out of this room...**_

_**I know you're pretending to date that other girl, just like you pretended to date Blair when you were still back in high school. I know you're doing it so that no one will know that you're still in love with me.**_

_**That's alright. I know what you're doing and I understand.**_

_**I can wait. I can wait forever for you.**_

_**I love you so much.**_

_**Laura.**_

Standing up, she tore out the note, folded it and put her coat back on. The candle was almost burned down, she could leave it and Richard would find it when he got back and would know she was there. It would be like a secret signal or something. And she knew it would make him smile. She'd tack the note to the board outside his first class on Monday. He'd get it there. It was a common way to pass messages on campus. She didn't notice she brushed the curtain, which was pulled into the candle flame.

The curtain ignited as she pulled the door closed behind her.

When Dick walked back to the dorm room he had been assigned to for the tail end of the semester—being Bruce Wayne's son had it's advantages since officially all the dorms were full—he saw the carton on the bed.

"That came for you about an hour ago." His roommate was benign and avoidable. They got along fine without much contact and largely ignored each other.

He opened it to find a care package of things he'd lost in the fire. There was a plastic bag filled with basic toiletries and a pile of clothing items, underwear and socks, tee shirts, the brand of jeans he liked in his correct size. There were a couple of good quality cashmere sweaters and about a dozen shirts of various types—button down to Henley.

The note on top was written on pink paper.

_**My Richard.**_

_**I was so completely upset when I heard what happened to your house. I know that you can replace anything you want, but I know how busy you are and how much you hate to shop, so I thought that you could use this stuff. The sweaters are the only splurge, everything else is pretty normal, but you look perfect in anything.**_

_**Please don't be mad. I love you.**_

_**Laura**_

Dick was about to just toss the contents of the box away when reason took over and he addressed his roommate. "You want any of this?" He knew the guy was on a scholarship and didn't have any money. He was one of those starving students whose idea of a wild impulse purchase was a pizza.

"What have you got?"

Dick slid the box across the floor.

"You sure? I thought you lost all your things in that fire and this is nice stuff."

"Take it." He thought that sounded too curt or spoiled or something. "I had insurance. My things were replaced in a few days. I really don't need this; it's fine. Besides, we're about the same size, you might as well use it."

"But won't your parents be pissed? This must have cost a lot."

"Jim—just take the fucking box, will you? I don't want it."

"_**Leave him alone."**_

There was a note on Becca's desk, along with an arrow. It was bizarre and if Laura had thought it was a real threat she would have been frightened, but she saw it for the stupid joke it was and threw it out.

Dick finished his classes and his finals. His grades were good and he made the Dean's List for the first semester. On his last day, just as he was about to leave Hudson for Christmas break, he stopped in at the Admissions office to tell them that he was withdrawing from the university for personal reasons. No, thank you, he didn't want a leave of absence, he just wanted to withdraw. He wouldn't be back for the winter semester. If he changed his mind, he would reapply. The paperwork was started and would be finished in a few weeks. The tuition refund could be sent to Bruce Wayne at the address listed in his file.

He left Hudson without looking back, not noticing Laura standing behind a large oak tree as he got into the cab for the airport.

_**My Richard,**_

_**I spent Christmas with my parents and we had the best time ever. We were out in Aspen like we usually are and my brother had his girlfriend with him which was nice but that made me sad because you weren't with me. They were always hugging and kissing and they seemed really happy, but I guess I was kind of lonely without you.**_

_**Were you skiing this year again? I know how good you are at it. I think it would be fun to take our kids skiing, don't you? We would be like those parents you see with the real little kids learning how to balance between their parents' skis. You know the ones, the kids who can out ski anyone on the hill by the time they're like seven. That would be our kids, wouldn't it? What fun!**_

_**Maybe we could ski in Austria or France or someplace on our honeymoon. Would you like that?**_

_**I got back from the Christmas break and I wanted to really surprise you when I told you that I applied and got accepted at Hudson! I was so incredibly excited!**_

_**I thought we could get a place together and walk to classes and eat lunch at the grill and watch movies together and have friends over and all kinds of fun things.**_

_**I though you'd be so happy but then I got here and I looked and looked for you but you weren't anywhere and finally I went to the Business school and asked and they told me that you'd withdrawn from the school.**_

_**At first I just thought they meant that you'd just changed your major or something like that but they said, no, you'd left the school.**_

_**Then I went to the Admissions office and they told me that they hadn't sent your transcript anywhere, so you hadn't transferred to another school or anything, either.**_

_**You just left—I couldn't believe it! How could you do that? You knew that I was there and I told you that I was going to apply to the school so we could be together. I told you that!**_

_**And you just left.**_

_**Well, you're probably back at the Manor so that's where I'm sending this. I guess you'll probably just get a job with Daddy Bruce and have a nice cushy life.**_

_**Oh, and I know that you gave away the clothes and things I sent you. I saw that stupid guy, that stupid roommate wearing some of the things and I went up to him and yelled at him in the library about how he was a thief because he took your stuff but he said you'd given them to him.**_

_**You don't care at all that I spent all my money on that and I worked a long time to get that money. You don't care because you're rich and you get everything handed to you because you're this pathetic orphan who everybody has to feel sorry for.**_

_**Well, poor you.**_

_**You ended up with like the richest man in the whole world and I know what you do to pay him back. I sure do. You think I haven't heard all the rumors? Well, I have and I think that they're true.**_

_**I think you left school because you missed your sugar daddy and I think that you were mean to me because you don't like girls.**_

_**Well, the hell with you. I've had enough of you and that old pervert guy you've gone running home to.**_

_**This is the last you'll be hearing from me, you bastard.**_

TBC

17


	10. Part 10

Title: My Richard. Part ten

Author: Simon

Characters: Dick/OC

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Post college and we go to a wedding

Warnings: None

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Feedback: Hell, yes. 

Thanks again, Jim.

We get a bit AU here. I don't want to give too much away, but I changed one bad guy who made canon problems for Dick into Laura for just this fic. I know that's not how DC had it, but it works here. You can forget about it as soon as you're done reading this, I promise.

**My Richard**

Part Ten Five Years Ago 

"So what did Bruce do when you told him that you weren't going back to school? You never did tell me about that."

Donna was sitting next to him on the sofa in the rec room in the Tower. He was just hanging; not watching the movie that was playing and finally starting to feel some of the tension from the last year melt away. It was February, and he'd been trying to unwind for a few months now—skiing for a few weeks with Bruce out in the Canadian Rockies and now reconnecting with his friends and doing a lot of just chilling. Well, chilling for him, anyway.

That had happened, the thing about him dropping out, so long ago—more than a year— that he didn't even really mind talking about it anymore. Besides, other stuff had happened which made that look like a walk in the park.

His shoulder still wasn't a hundred percent from the Joker's bullet and Dick was sort of floundering. A sick part of his brain said, 'Nah, Garth might flounder, you're adrift—no, that would be Garth, too. You're, well okay, you're just a little lost right now. Having a slight crisis of confidence.'

_**My Richard,**_

_**I know that you're back with Bruce and that you're not officially working at his company, but you still show up at the social things sometimes. I know how much you hate that sort of stuff.**_

_**I'm worried about you. Are you alright?...**_

_**Laura**_

"Bruce wasn't too bad about that. I guess Alfred tempered him a lot, took him aside and sat him down and stuff. He wasn't happy, he was disappointed, but he finally conceded it wasn't right for me to go the whole Harvard MBA route. I guess he's given up on the idea that I might take over Wayne Corp for him." He sipped his beer. "I don't know, maybe Bruce'll have a kid of his own who'll do what he wants, at least more than I did. And if not, he can always adopt one."

Jason Todd, the thorn in Dick's side. No, not the kid himself, though Dick wasn't what you'd call close to him, just the fact that Bruce had canned Dick then gone out to 'adopt a waif' and come up with the new kid in no time flat.

Nothing says 'expendable' like being replaced before your chair was even cold.

_**My Richard,**_

_**Sometimes I think it would have been so good for you if you had a little brother or sister to look after, or maybe even an older one who could check in on you to make sure you were okay.**_

_**I know how I like it when my brother takes care of me.**_

_**Maybe I could be like your cousin and watch out to make sure nothing bad is happening to you. Would you like that?...Kissing cousin, perhaps?**_

_**Laura**_

Donna, well, all of Dick's friends were worried about him. He'd dropped out of college a year ago Christmas and since then he'd been aimless—well, as aimless as someone who still worked twelve and fifteen hour days could ever be. He spent a lot of time with the Titans, both for work and socially. He was seeing a lot of Kory and that seemed to be pretty good—weird, but pretty good. And he had been doing the Batman and...thing.

Or he had been doing it until about six months ago when he'd taken a bullet through the shoulder and Bruce flipped out, deciding it was too dangerous for him to continue and basically fired him, taken 'Robin' away from the person who had breathed life into the persona for ten years, fired Dick and then not really understood why Dick was upset.

Or if he did understand it, discounted it for the greater good.

Too dangerous? For the love of God. Dick had grown up in a circus; he could turn quads when he was eight years old. He had watched his parents die. He founded and led the Titans and he had trained with and been Batman's right hand for a decade. In that time he had been shot at, gassed, captured, knifed, kidnapped, worked off-planet and dealt with some of the hardest asses ever seen all while staying on the honor roll.

And _now_ Bruce decides that he's worried about him?

What a load of bull.

Then Bruce took on another kid who was younger, had maybe a tenth of Dick's ability and ten times his attitude.

Jerk.

_**My Richard,**_

I'm concerned that you may not have enough to do to keep yourself busy. I know how much you hate being bored—it was all I could do to tie you down to eat dinner or watch a movie with me!

_**Are you sure that you're okay? I could come over there and I'd love to see Alfred and Bruce again. I really would. What do you say?...**_

_**Laura**_

No wonder Dick was at loose ends.

Of course Dick at loose ends was a normal person on their best day. He still managed to keep himself occupied.

He had helped Roy quit heroin when Oliver was just spouting platitudes, disappointment and anger at his partner. Thank God the cold turkey seemed to have taken with no backsliding—at least none anyone had been able to discover and as a result, Roy would probably cut off his right arm if he thought Dick needed it.

He was in charge of the Titans.

He had invented the persona of Nightwing.

He was the rock they all leaned on, even though the Titans seemed to be in some kind of transition or flux or something.

Garth wasn't a member any more and so they didn't see him too much, something about there being internal political problems in Atlantis and Arthur not being tactful enough to handle them so Garth had been drafted to deal. It was almost as if Garth was being groomed to do some kind of diplomatic work somewhere. No one knew for sure how he felt about that, but then Garth was never one to complain. If he thought that was what was expected of him, that's what he'd do. That was Garth, and no one would ever know how he really felt about anything except for maybe Tula.

Donna was still Donna, God love her, but she was a little lost herself and seemed to be leaning towards Terry Long to find some kind of stability. Maybe that was what she needed and if not then her old friends would still be there for her later.

Wally seemed the same, just good old conservative Wally. Dick privately thought he was probably a charter member of the Young Republicans and would goad him into political arguments whenever he was bored, always shredding anything Wally would say. It was too easy, though and lately Dick had been backing off that. Shooting fish in a barrel was never really his thing.

Kory was a big help. She really was. Talk about not like your other girls on the block. Dick didn't have much trouble getting past the fact that she was really tall or had gold skin or that she didn't have pupils. All of that was pretty cool the way he saw it—and he saw it in a lot of ways and from every direction. Their relationship had started with a bang, literally and figuratively and had just kept heating up from there. Sometimes it was even embarrassing how much and often in how many different ways they were together. Not that Kory cared in the least, but there were still enough remnants of good Catholic boy in Dick to want to keep things behind closed doors, or at least not flat out in the open.

_**My Richard,**_

_**I was wondering of you still ever see that girl, that Donna person I met when we all went swimming at the Manor.**_

_**I think that she liked you and I think that you liked her back.**_

_**Are you seeing her now? Are you?**_

_**She's a slut and I bet that she's the type who has slut friends...**_

_**Laura**_

Things weren't always peaches and cream with Kory, make no mistake about that, but they always managed to make up—usually for several days straight.

She intrigued him, kept him interested and he was never bored with her. In fact, he was starting to think that he might be in love with her. He wasn't sure yet, and he knew that she was waiting for him to get the fence pole out of his butt, but he was closer to her than he'd ever felt with any other girl and that was pretty cool.

And he really wanted to be in love. Okay, he knew hat smacked of moony teenage-ism, but he didn't care. He wanted someone in his life he could tell anything to and touch whenever he want and go to sleep with and wake up with and everything in between and he wanted that person to feel the same way about him.

It was looking like Kory might be that person and every time he started thinking about her he found himself smiling, and that was just so cool.

Meanwhile he really had to figure out just what he wanted to be when he grew up.

Sure, he knew that crime-fighting would always be a big part of his reason to get up in the morning, but he wasn't sure how he wanted to go about it. Besides, he—well, Nightwing— was superfluous now.

Bruce—and Jason—had Gotham; he wasn't even close to being needed there. Clark was in Metropolis, Barry in Keystone City. Diana was in New York and Arthur and Garth had the oceans pretty much covered. Most of the other members of the community had their own cities or territories and hero etiquette said you didn't poach someone else's turf. In addition, there was the JLA and the JSA to cover anyplace that they'd missed.

Okay, he was leading the Titans, but he didn't know what was going to happen with them and he wasn't going to be a teen much longer. In fact, none of them would be teenagers much longer. Maybe they should have a meeting about that and see how they all felt about it.

He had some major decisions to make and he was avoiding them like the plague.

He had to get a grip here, or as his father used to say, go out and buy himself a clue. Okay, Dad, he'd see what he could do about that.

He was going out with Kory a lot and he knew that she wanted to move on to something more. She wanted to live together or get married or something but he still wasn't sure. He wasn't trying to keep her hanging or anything like that, he just didn't know...He liked her, he even knew that he loved her, but God—he'd never been there, never felt like that about anyone before and he was just so afraid of screwing it up.

He tried to imagine his life with her and then without her—here on Earth or on Tamaran.

A month later he'd come to a decision; he and Kory, if she still wanted to, could move in together and see where they were after a while like that.

Kory was thrilled when they talked about it, Bruce was noncommittal and the other Titans seemed happy enough for them both, if reserved and a little doubtful.

One night he asked her if she still wanted to try it and that was that. He moved a few boxes of his things into her place and Kory spent several months and too much money trying to turn it into a home for them. Dick inwardly cringed at both her decorating taste and the cost, but kept his mouth shut.

They began going out together as Dick and Kory while Nightwing was seen dancing around Koriand'r. The press and the tabloids had a field day and somehow, God knew how, no one made the connection that they were the same man.

_**My Richard, (well, maybe not 'my', not after this.)**_

_**Jesus, I can't believe this, I really can't!**_

_**How could you get caught up in something like this freak-show and with a freak like that?**_

_**I saw you going to dinner with that—that—whatever the hell she is and I couldn't believe that you actually kissed her!**_

_**God, I almost puked right there, it was so disgusting.**_

_**And you even smiled at her and looked like you were having a good time and everything. God. It's perverted, it's just wrong and maybe you aren't the person I thought you were.**_

_**But then I started thinking that there must be some reason why you were doing this so I watched and I saw you a few nights later going to a show with her and I couldn't believe that you were still so—God, I can't even write it down...you were so—happy looking and it was completely disgusting and she's disgusting and she's making you gross just because you're with her.**_

_**Don't you get it?**_

_**Don't you understand what you're doing here?**_

_**Do you hate me this much? Do you really have to embarrass me and humiliate me in front of the whole world? What am I supposed to tell my family? What should I tell my friends? They all know how you feel about me and now you go and do something like this. I just can't believe you'd stoop this low.**_

_**Why? Can you tell me that? Just why?**_

_**Who the hell do you think you are? And why the hell are you doing this stupid wedding thing you seem to be going along with?**_

_**Can you even sleep with her? She's like an alien, isn't she? Does she even have the right parts to do things with or are you just really creative?**_

_**You're disgusting—SHE'S disgusting and together you two...God.**_

_**You make me throw up.**_

_**Both of you do and don't you think for one minute that this is over, you bastard. It isn't, not by a long shot.**_

_**You'll see what it's like when you screw around with someone. You'll see.**_

_**You will.**_

_**I'm not done with you yet.**_

Laura 

Oh, sure Dick had his friends to run interference for him and wear disguises so it looked like there were two of them, but this was hardly the type of thing that would stump anyone who was trying hard. The relationship was still the best one he'd ever had, so that was what mattered.

Finally they decided to move it to another plane and so Dick Grayson was seen to be challenging Nightwing for the fair maiden's hand. If Kory went to a show with Nightwing, she would go to dinner with Dick. If Dick took her to Hawaii, Nightwing would take her to some fancy hero's award thing. It went back and forth for a couple of months until finally the two men were seen together meeting in a neutral place—The Russian Tea Room—and having a heart to heart.

Dick Grayson, son of Gotham billionaire, seemed to come out on top and two weeks later his engagement to Ms Koriand'r was announced in all the media. The wedding would be huge, as befitting a merger between money and beauty with a liberal dose of accomplishment thrown in. Bruce Wayne's ward, Richard Grayson would be marrying Koriand'r in a private wedding on the Wayne Estate, no specific date released. In a separate announcement, Nightwing said the better man had won, wished them both all the best and happiness.

Leading up to the actual day there had been reports on the TV tabloid shows, articles in everything from Time Magazine to the National Enquirer. They had been followed and telephoto pictures taken through their windows appeared worldwide. If they stepped outside of their door they were mobbed or followed. If they stayed in they felt like prisoners.

The whole thing was complicated by Bruce's broken back, happening barely a month before the ceremony. Dick was distraught, worried and basically a mess while Kory was worried about both her lover and problems back on Tamaran. Neither of them was a picture of calm, much as they tried to keep that from each other.

It was a nightmare.

The day of the wedding was a media circus and Dick wanted to cancel the entire thing and either elope to somewhere or just forget the whole stupid idea.

Their whole life would be like this and he was a fool to think they would be able to have a life together.

It was impossible and he was an idiot.

The day was hot and sunny and Dick felt like he was a pawn being moved and dressed with no real will of his own. He knew that Kory was happy and that she was better able to block out the things that were making him insane, but he wasn't so lucky.

Everyone else, including Dick, was on edge and snapping at one another. The caterers were late, the tent wasn't as secure as it should have been and so was sagging. The flowers were dropping in the heat and the champagne was domestic.

This was a Wayne affair, though, even though the best Bruce would be able to manage was to watch from his bed upstairs. The location for the vows had been chosen with that in mind. In an hour the tent was tightened, the flowers had been watered and the correct wines had been delivered, already chilled. Alfred would allow nothing less than the best today of all days.

Finally, finally they were ready to start.

Dick had on a new tux Bruce had insisted on from Armani and Kory was wearing a dress one of the French biggies had made as a present for her. Actually the catfight between Vera Wang, Stella McCartney and Galanos had been the funniest thing Dick had seen since the whole mess started—nothing like fashion queens with their backs up for a good time.

Dick was standing at the makeshift alter on the Manor lawn, their friends were all sitting on hundreds of chairs facing him and he turned when he heard the music start to see Kory come down the aisle toward him.

She had insisted on an Earth ceremony so that Dick would feel more comfortable, saying that they could always do it again when they went to visit her family. She figured that with Dick's body he had nothing to be worried about the nudity involved but decided that she could run that past him some other time.

Donna was smiling at him as she preceded Kory and then Kory was standing right next to him, holding his hand.

"Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here..."

The explosion tore through the alter, obliterating the candlesticks and the flowers, the cross and the rest.

Everyone within twenty feet of the blast was thrown aside and Dick threw himself on Kory in an effort to protect her.

There was noise, screaming, sirens, the smell of gunpowder and burning and Dick was dazed enough to wonder what was going on here, but lucid enough to wonder which one of his enemies had done this—Joker? Luthor? Harvey Dent? Catwoman?

There were so many possibilities...just an occupational hazard.

The injuries were minor, considering. There were a few broken bones, some burns, some cuts and bruises. It could have been worse as far as that went.

The wedding was postponed, indefinitely.

That evening a few of the inner circle were in the Manor kitchen, quiet, wearing jeans and casual everyday clothing to replace their ruined finery when Alfred slightly started and fetched something from the far counter, handing it to Dick.

"Forgive me, but in the confusion this afternoon, I forgot that a young lady asked me to give this to you when you were free."

Dick opened the pale pink envelope.

_**My Richard,**_

I told you that I didn't want you to do this. You just don't listen... 

TBC

17


	11. Part 11

Title: My Richard. Part Eleven

Author: Simon

Characters: Dick/OC

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Letter from Laura

Warnings: None

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Feedback: Hell, yes. 

Thanks again, Jim.

**My Richard**

Part Eleven 

Four years ago 

_**My Richard,**_

_**Well, that wasn't what I thought was going to happen, y'know? I wasn't trying to really hurt anyone, I just wanted to let you know that you were making a big mistake and I think you even knew that because right after that stupid wedding you broke up with that disgusting freak girl.**_

_**I read the papers, you know, I'm not stupid.**_

_**Anyway, I was just trying to stop you from doing something dumb which I knew you'd regret and no one would listen to me. I wrote you and I tried to call you—I even tried to call Bruce at his office, but his bitch of a secretary wouldn't put me through even after I told her that I was going to marry you and that I really knew Bruce and that I'd been over to the Manor like a thousand times.**_

_**I hate her and I wish you'd tell Bruce that he should fire her ass. She's really bad for his image because she's so mean and I know that isn't how he wants people to think about him.**_

_**He tries to come off all serious and stuff, but he's really pretty nice.**_

_**Why am I telling you this? You KNOW that, right?**_

_**I even wrote that girl a couple of months before you even announced that you were getting married, when you were still duking it out with that stupid Nightwing guy for her and wasn't that just embarrassing? I mean, God—what if she was even dumber than she already is and decided, for some stupid reason, that she wanted him instead of you? Like anyone could decide that. I'm not sure how I would have felt about that. I mean, you would have been upset and I don't want that, but I sure didn't want you to end up with her—you see what I mean?**_

_**I guess that's what they call 'conflicted', right?**_

_**Anyway.**_

_**The trial. God, that was awful and I'm glad that you were allowed to give your testimony mostly all on one day so that you didn't have to sit through the whole thing.**_

_**I was pretty upset when you told everybody in the courtroom and that judge you don't have a relationship with me and that you hadn't willingly seen me since we were fifteen years old and then you said that I'd been stalking you for like years.**_

_**Where did you get THAT idea? God, all I ever did was write you a few letters and send you some presents I thought that you might like. Was that such a big deal? I was just being nice to you.**_

_**God, it was so embarrassing. They were talking like I'm crazy, the stupid jerks, when all I'm guilty of was falling in love with the most incredible person in the whole world.**_

_**You know that, don't you? It's not like I haven't told you only about a million times, right?**_

_**Well, it's still true—I love you, I love you, I love you!!!!!**_

_**I really hated all the reporters who were there, too. Just because you're sort of related to Bruce there were all these stupid people wanting to know everything there is to know about you and me and Bruce and my family—I just hated that and I know you did, too.**_

_**That's one reason I know we're so perfect together. We both even hate the same things!**_

_**I was telling my roommate just the other day about you—how handsome you are, how smart and how amazingly nice you can be. I even told her that you were raised in a circus and she thinks that may be the reason you can get along with people so well—you had to when you were little because you were always traveling around and stuff.**_

_**I guess that makes sense, but I think you'd still be the nicest person in the whole world even if you'd spent all your life in Wayne Manor with all that stuffiness in the place.**_

_**You know what I think?**_

_**I think that even though you needed a place to stay when your parents died (I can say that, can't I? I mean, it happened a long time ago, but I don't want you to feel bad because I reminded you about that. It's okay isn't it?)—Anyway, I think that even though you needed a place to live I think Bruce needed you just as bad as you needed him and I think that even Alfred would agree.**_

_**In fact, now that I think about it, I think that maybe Alfred needed you, too.**_

_**I mean, think about it.**_

_**You have this big, spooky old place with just two men living there. It's almost like a Gothic novel or something—and then this little kid shows up and he needs someone to love him and take care of him and he's really upset because he's this orphan (I'm sorry—can I say that?).**_

_**It's like you probably made them get their heads out of their own butts and think about someone other than themselves for once.**_

_**Is that what happened?**_

_**I bet it is.**_

_**I bet that you were the one who made them air that old museum out and let in some sunlight and fresh air.**_

_**I bet that when you showed up the place finally started feeling like it was a home instead of a mausoleum. **_

_**And the fact that you're this incredibly amazingly beautiful and astounding sexy Gypsy didn't hurt, either, if you know what I mean! No, no, no—I don't mean THAT! I know you and Bruce didn't ever—you know. But you are incredibly sexy, you know!**_

_**You want to know what I never really understood, though?**_

_**I mean, you have this grandfather over in Europe who you really love and I guess he really loves you—how could he not? This is YOU we're talking about here!**_

_**Anyway, you have this actual relative you could have gone with and the courts or whoever decides these things gave you to this total stranger instead. What was that about?**_

_**I think I figured it out finally. I do. Tell me if I'm right, okay? **_

_**I think that you probably wanted to go with your grandfather but the courts wouldn't let this orphaned, traumatized kid fly over to Europe alone to some old relative you probably hadn't seen in God knew how long when there was this really powerful rich guy who was greasing wheels and palms to get what he wanted. Besides, your grandfather, remember you told me that he lives in some stupid place like Romania or Hungary or Yugoslavia or something? I mean, do you even speak Romanian? Who would want to send a kid to some crappy little village in like Transylvania when he could have this plush home with one of the richest men in the whole world, y'know?**_

_**Talk about your no-brainer.**_

_**Okay, so you ended up with Bruce and that was really good until the rumors started, right? Come ON, Richard. EVERYONE had heard them, right?**_

_**Single rich guy, cute little boy all alone in that big house? Yeah, uh-huh. Two plus two equals four, right?**_

_**Well, I never believed what they said. I know you know that, I just want to tell you.**_

_**I know you like girls and I know that you like me. I know you love me, in fact.**_

_**You know, I was thinking that when they let me out of here maybe we should go away for a while. Wouldn't that be nice? We could relax and maybe reconnect a little.**_

_**I was thinking maybe the Caribbean or maybe Hawaii or even the Mediterranean would be nice, but anyplace you want to go is fine with me. You know that.**_

_**Just so long as those creepy friends of yours don't come. I mean. Slut Donna can stay home, thanks and that creepy guy with the purple eyes who hardly ever talks—where do you find these people? I know that they're your friends and all, but God—they're just so creepy, if you ask me.**_

_**You want to know a crazy thought I had the other day?**_

_**You'll laugh a lot when I tell you this.**_

_**I was reading that special issue of People Magazine the other day, you know, the one that was all about the super heroes and their love lives and all? You must have seen it around.**_

_**Anyway, most of it was pretty dumb, but I was looking at some pictures of that new guy, the one named Nightwing? The one who wears that black outfit with the dark blue on it? Pretty depressing, if you ask me. He's the one who's mostly down in Bludhaven (though why ANYone would want to go there, I'll never know) and sometimes he's around up in Gotham and even New York. **_

_**Oh, God—of course you know about him because of that whole wedding thing. I know, duh—brain fart for me.**_

_**Well, anyway, you're going to say I'm crazy, but I think that you kind of look like him. I mean, you're a lot more handsome and he wears that stupid mask and all, but you do look a little like he does. I mean, if you look at the shape of his face and his build and all, you're pretty much the same type.**_

_**I just stared and stared at the pictures and then something else caught my eye. You know how I said that the special issue was about their love lives and stuff like that?**_

_**Well it turns out that this guy was dating that freaky girl you were going to pretend to get married to before I stopped you from making that big mistake. I mean, he was supposedly dating her for a while before you hooked up with her and went through that weird period you were going through—WHAT were you thinking?**_

_**Pretty weird, isn't it? Both of you dating the same girl and both of you not minding that she's this weird freak? How lame is that? I mean, I'm sorry and I would never hurt your feelings, but that was like pretty dumb.**_

_**Well, maybe freak girl likes a certain type—like who wouldn't like you, right? But still, y'know?**_

_**Oh and they said that he's this really, really good athlete who can do all this martial arts and I started thinking about you and your gymnastics. That's pretty close, isn't it? I mean, it's sort of the same kind of moves and you have to be really strong to do that stuff, don't you?**_

_**You're like the strongest guy I think I know.**_

_**And that's another thing.**_

_**There was this section in the magazine about the Titans. You know them, right? They keep changing their members so it's kind of hard to keep track of who's who there, but some of the members even look a little like those friends of yours who we went swimming with that day at the Manor.**_

_**I know that sounds stupid, but they said that there's one member who's even got purple eyes, just like your shy friend and there's this girl who keeps changing her name who's this stacked brunette.**_

_**Pretty small world, huh?**_

_**I just thought that you'd get a kick out of that. I wonder if anyone else has noticed that, too? I mean I wonder if anyone else has noticed how alike you two guys are?**_

_**I mean, there's this rumor that Nightwing looks and acts a lot like Robin used to. You know Robin—as in Batman and...? Well, everybody knows that Batman isn't real and so I guess that means that Robin isn't, either, but IF he was I mean.**_

_**Look, Batman is supposed to be in Gotham and you used to live there, right? And Robin was in the Teen Titans a while ago. Now this Nightwing guy is a member and he lives—or works or something—in Bludhaven and so do you, even though you're wasting your time now working in some crummy bar. He used to date that Kory girl and you almost married her before I made you understand that would be a big mistake.**_

_**He's a kind of acrobat or a gymnast and so are you.**_

_**I don't know. It just seems pretty interesting, if you ask me. I haven't said anything to anyone about this silly idea of mine—I mean, why would I do that, you know? Besides, who would believe anything as dumbass as that? **_

_**And it's not like you're some kind of hero or anything, well, except to me, of course.**_

_**I guess people would be pretty weirded out if they thought that about you, wouldn't they? I know you'd hate to have something like that known--I mean if it was true.**_

_**Which I know it isn't.**_

_**I guess I'm just being stupid.**_

_**So, I was wondering what you've been up to besides that stupid bartending thing you're doing? I bet kazillionaire Bruce just about had a fit when he found out that his son was serving beer to drunks.**_

_**But that's okay with me. If that's what makes you happy, then that's what you should do as far as I'm concerned. I just want what you want, you know that. And it must leave you with a lot of free time for your hobbies and stuff, doesn't it?**_

_**I was thinking about something else, too. Since we're both like twenty-two now, don't you think that's the perfect age to get married?**_

_**I do. (I do, I do, I do!!!!)**_

_**If we get married this year, we could go on our honeymoon someplace wonderful and maybe I could be pregnant before Christmas, wouldn't that be perfect? I don't think you'd want a big wedding like that stupid thing before with you and the freak, but if that's what you have your heart set on, you know I just want whatever you do. Do you think Vera Wang would be right for me? I know her custom things are kind of expensive, but this will be in all the magazines and I want to make you proud of me, Richard. I want to look beautiful for you, even though no one could ever look as good as you do.**_

_**I've heard that some people sell the rights to their wedding to some magazine or something as an exclusive so they can control the press—do you think that would be a good idea? We could give the money to some charity if you want. I just don't want to see the most perfect day of our lives ruined by someone like that horrible woman Lois Lane or that unctuous Jimmy Olsen.**_

_**I've been doing really a lot of thinking about our wedding and when I see you we can go over everything. We'll make it just the way you want it to be, I promise. I just want everything to be perfect because this is the most important day in either of our lives.**_

_**I can hardly wait!**_

_**I haven't told anyone about any of this because I'm afraid that the story will get out that we're still in love and then it will be all over the stupid tabloids and I know how much you'd hate that to happen.**_

_**But I've been saving the best news for last!**_

_**They said that they were going to release me in four days because I've made so much progress and I can hardly wait! I asked them not to tell my parents or my brother or anyone. It's a big secret. The doctor—he's so stupid—he smiled and said he understood, because it was such a high profile case there would be reporters if they let anything leak, so they'd keep it a big secret just like I asked them.**_

_**Anyway, I was hoping that you could maybe be here to pick me up and I could just walk through the door and you'd see me and we'd hug and you'd kiss me and you'd say all of those things you've been saving up as long as I have. God, I can't wait, my Richard.**_

_**Oh—my parents don't know about this. I write them all the time but I know that we'll want to have some time together, just the two of us, so we can get reacquainted. Maybe we could rent some cute little cabin somewhere for that? I was thinking that there are lots of those really sweet little B&B's you can got to for a week or two and they're all filled with quilts and antiques and they have these wonderful big breakfasts that I bet they'd serve us in bed.**_

_**Wouldn't that be perfect?**_

_**Tuesday at nine in the morning, that's when I'm being released. I'm mailing this to you in plenty of time and I'm counting the minutes, just like you are.**_

_**I love you!**_

_**Your Laura.**_

The letter was sent via overnight mail to Wayne Manor, arriving the next day to be added to the box of mail the post office was holding until the Wayne place reopened in two weeks when Mr. Wayne returned from London with his butler.

Dick Grayson hadn't joined his former guardian—now his adopted father—in England. He was living temporarily in the dorm of the Police Academy, having almost finished the training course that would lead to his appointment as an officer in the Bludhaven Police Department in one week.

TBC

14


	12. Part 12

Title: My Richard. Part Twelve

Author: Simon

Characters: Dick/OC

Rating: PG-13

Summary: He's a cop and she's back, darnit.

Warnings: None

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Feedback: Hell, yes. 

Thanks again, Jim.

**My Richard**

Part Twelve Three and a half years ago 

"Grayson? If I have to talk to you about this again, I'll write you up, you understand me?"

"...Yeah, sure."

"Take care of it, you hear me?"

Nodding, Dick left the main desk and passed through the hallways to the locker room. It was the end of yet another double shift, he was beat and he'd just had his ass chewed by the Lieutenant. On top of that, he had about two and a half hours before he had to start his 'other' patrol. There was a ring of bank robbers loose and his personal goal for the evening was to stop them permanently. And something to eat and a shower would be nice, if he could fit them in.

The problem with the Lieutenant? Oh, just the usual. Laura was always standing outside the main door to the precinct house and he wanted her gone. She never did anything, was never a problem or a disturbance or any of that. She was just always there. He had asked her a couple of times to leave and she always had, returning the next day with a sandwich for him which he'd never accept. The Lieutenant was under the impression, as were all the others, that she was Dick's fiancé or girlfriend or livein or something and they'd had a lover's spat. That was what she hinted to anyone who spoke to her. She was always pleasant, always friendly. No one was buying that Dick was the victim here, that she was nuts.

He had become increasingly insistent that she go, telling her that he'd have her picked up for loitering if she didn't leave him alone, but she'd just smile and move off until the next time.

She was quiet, often reading a book or writing in a journal of some kind, she never left. If Dick was on duty she was there, waiting in front of the building.

The other cops noticed, of course, and asked what his problem was, so he had a fan, he should be flattered. Alright, Dick didn't like her being there, but she hadn't done anything other than smile at him and, much as he didn't want to see her, he rarely had to deal with her. He didn't even use that door, generally coming and going through a rear entrance, closer to where he parked his bike.

Occasionally she would bring in a large box of cookies or brownies or a cake or something along those lines, always making a point of saying that they were for everyone in the place and always being cheerful and polite. Everyone knew she was there to see Officer Grayson, but she never seemed to single him out, other than by the fact that she never took her eyes off of him and if he was assigned to a particular venue or a corner for traffic duty, or something, she would turn up and just smile at him whenever he turned her way.

This was even creepier and more disconcerting than a lot of the other things she'd done—the presents, the fire, the letters—because this seemed so damned benign. It was like waiting for the shoe to drop and the rational part of his mind told him to just talk to her, for God's sake. He should tell her to leave him alone and tell her that if she doesn't, he'll take further action and use the restraining order he'd taken out as soon as she called him after being released from treatment a few months before.

He could do that, he knew he could and it would make absolute sense if he did. Of course it would.

So...?

He knew that it was past time for him to put a stop to this. He did know that and he'd lost enough sleep over it to know it was affecting his day-to-day life yet again—still. He was supposed to be a hero and he was acting like—damnit—as Roy had told him in one of their on going arguments about this—the girl had him completely whipped. What the hell was his problem?

He'd been arresting people since he was nine years old, what was one more?

The story was in his file in case anyone cared to look, thought it seemed like no one had taken the trouble. All of it was there, the stalking, the suspicious fire in the boarding house, the whole fiasco at the wedding, the conviction by reason of insanity—all of it was there. He could stop her with a word or a sentence.

He could.

But—stupid as that was, it would tell Bruce that he'd messed up handling this. Something which should have ended and been put to rest five or more years before was still lingering on. Bruce had enough to deal with now without something like this to worry him as well. He was still recovering from the fallout of his broken back and the whole thing with NML. Alfred was a controlled mess because of everything and, truth be told, Dick wasn't having the most fun he'd ever had in his life, either.

Batman was up to his ass and Dick—shit, Dick couldn't add to that because he'd messed this up. He knew what Bruce would do; he'd come down to the 'Haven and fix it in five minutes and Dick would look like an idiot and feel like a second rate fool.

He just—couldn't. If it was anything else it would be different, but this was personal because it involved Dick Grayson, not Nightwing. It didn't have anything to do with any others in the business.

It was just—different, and he convinced himself that when you came down to it, it really only affected him. Bruce was out of the loop, Alfred was ignorant about what was going on and Barbara was safe, so it was his problem. No one else's. Not any more,anyway.

He and Kory limped along for a few months after the failed wedding and then called it quits with a lot of sadness and regrets on both their parts. Months after that, Dick and Barbara started connecting beyond the good friends they had been for over ten years, but that was still bumpy. Dick completely loved her and he believed that she loved him, but she was using that fucking chair as an excuse not to get closer. She was reluctant to move forward and they were both frustrated and a bit angry over the stall in their relationship. Dick had told her a hundred times that the chair didn't matter; Barbara would look at him and just smile. It was like when he was ten years old and she was showing him why his math was wrong. He felt patronized and like his genuine feelings were being trivialized and lost in Barbara's self defenses.

He hated it and the last thing he needed was the added monkey wrench of a crazy lurking around to give Babs more reason to back off.

And Laura was being weird, too—weird even for her, that is. Dick thought he had a handle on her various shades of insane, but this was something new. There were no letters or presents left at his door or the station. She rarely even talked to him other than the most minor comments about the weather or something.

It was like she had moved into a new phase and he knew she would blow up soon. That was the pattern, a period of relative calm and then something big would happen. He knew enough about her to know her cycles. She was building up to something.

He tried to talk to the Captain about it several times, but the man was always out with the flu or in a meeting or on vacation. He tried to talk to the Lieutenant, but the man refused to take it seriously, even after seeing the record. "A little girl like that scaring you, Grayson? You want someone to hold your hand to cross the street, too? She's all better; you can see that, just look at her out there. Cut her some slack, will ya?"

"I want to bring her in for violation of..."

"I said cut her some slack, now drop it." Stupid and corrupt, the man was beyond useless. "Oh, and don't try any of your tricks, Grayson. You go over my head or behind my back, your ass is grass. You understand me?"

"Did you look at the record? She's..."

"She had a problem, got treatment and now she's better. Accept it, boy. How long you been with the force? Eight months? You been here twenty years, come back and talk to me." He turned his attention back to his paperwork. "You know, something? That little girl of yours is the spitting image of my little Mary. You put the two of them next to each other and they'd pass for sisters." He took one of Laura's brownies and ate it in one bite. "What's the matter, Grayson? You don't like girls now?"

Oh yeah.

The other cops had taken to saying hello to her, asking her how she was doing today and if she was alright. They'd chat when they had the time and she admitted to some of them that she and Richard—Officer Grayson, she meant and would blush prettily—were old friends and she just knew he was a big help to them. She was so proud of him, everyone was so proud and he was always so much fun to have around. She would hint that one of these days soon they'd be tying the knot and they'd laugh and tell her that if they had her to come home to they wouldn't be stopping for beer on the way.

Sometimes the other cops wives would come to pick them up or drop the men off and Laura struck up friendships with a couple of them as well. They would commiserate about how hard it was being married to a cop, the long hours and the constant worry.

They asked Laura if maybe she and Dick would like to come to a cookout at someone's house or to dinner on Saturday with a few of the other couples in the group. They could play cards and socialize. It would be fun. Laura would always thank them and then imply, without really saying, that Dick just liked to relax when he got home and she understood that. Maybe when he'd been on the force longer he'd be able to unwind a little easier. Maybe after they were married he'd be more willing to go out with other people.

It got to the point where the other officers would tell her that Dick was changing and would be out in a few minutes or that he had to work a double today, so she might as well go home and wait for him there. She always thanked them.

She seemed like such a sweet girl, Grayson was a lucky man.

One day Dick was in the locker room, wearing a towel around his waist from a quick shower and changing into his regular clothes when Tom came over. "So what's the deal with that girl? You make a conquest or did you do her wrong? Or both?"

Dick just shook his head. He'd just been told, yet again, that he wasn't to bother her if she wasn't a direct problem. Jesus H. fucking Christ on a bike. He'd told the Lieutenant that she was a problem, he'd shown the man the court records and he still just didn't get it. Now he was being ordered to leave _her_ alone? Christ.

Tom wasn't an idiot. "Right. She stalking you? How long has this been going on?"

Dick hesitated. They had tried to seal the records when she was sent into custody a couple of years ago but couldn't since she wasn't a minor. There had been a gag order on the press, but Smoking Gun had found the case and it was on the net. Luckily, not that many people made the connection and it was yesterday's news. The story had died out, thank God. "I'm taking care of it."

"That's not what I asked. This has been going on for a while, hasn't it?"

Dick looked around; a couple of the other guys were about ten feet away changing into their civvies as well. The whole thing was getting to him and so he did something he'd never done before, probably never in his whole life with a civilian. "Look, you have a little time? You want to get a beer?" He really wanted to just talk to someone and Tom was a friend. He could tell him enough of the story and as a cop he'd get it.

Fifteen minutes later they were sitting in a booth at Hogan's Alley, two blocks from the station, having gone out a back door to avoid Laura. Dick's bike was still in the precinct lot, she wouldn't know he had left the building. The waitress brought them a couple of Lowenbrau's and took their steak orders. Dick would pick up the tab; it was he least he could do.

"So, what's the deal? You know who she is or did she just appear?"

"Her name's Laura Woodward, I knew her in high school. We dated for a year or so then she started—things started getting weird." Dick told him the bare bones of the story, how she had become possessive, he'd tried to break up, her suicide attempt, how the Woodward's had moved after that. Things had been fairly quiet then, except for the letters that he hadn't told anyone about—he was a kid, he thought he could handle it. He didn't want to upset people. It was a common story as far as these things went. He went into how she had shown up at Hudson, how his rooming house had burned and though she had been strongly suspected, nothing could be proven. Then he, with much hesitation, told Tom about how she had disapproved—to understate things—his wedding to another woman (he didn't give names) and had planted a bomb under the altar.

There had been a trial where Laura was found guilty by reason of insanity and remanded to a psychiatric facility. Obviously, she was now out and he'd been seeing her around for a few weeks, though there had been little actual contact other than her hanging around the station.

He also said he expected that she would try something eventually, though he didn't know what. Dick warned his new girlfriend, Barbara, to be careful and had made some security improvements to both her apartment and his own. He'd been basically ordered by the higher ups to do nothing, despite his showing them her record and telling them his belief that she was a danger to herself and others. They seemed to think a cute blonde who brought them cookies couldn't be a problem.

Idiots.

"You know that she won't just disappear. Do you think that your talking to her will make a dent?"

Dick shook his head. "I told her when we were fifteen that it was over and she didn't believe me then. I've been telling her to get lost ever since and even when she's seen me with other girlfriends—even when I was going to get married—she just blew past it." He took a drink of his beer, a long pull. "I testified against her in court and she thought that I was just upset with her because she wanted to get married and I didn't. She's not really all that closely in touch with reality."

"Restraining order?"

"Yeah, I have one, but you know as well as I do they don't mean shit. The most it can do is to allow me to arrest her if she violates it."

"It's something, anyway, and isn't she in violation now?"

"Sure, but I've been ordered not to do anything."

Tom paused with his steak. "The Lieutenant is a moron, you know you have to tell the Captain, right? She could be a threat and that means it involves the force. You get killed, we have a hole in the line." He saw the look he got. "Sorry. Small joke. You have to tell him, though."

"I know. I'm trying, but I can't get in to see him. I just want to try one last thing. He's not going to be back until Monday anyway, I may as well take a shot." He wanted to actually try talking to her, useless as it would probably be. He hadn't done that since—well since he was in school. All he'd done since then was avoid her, blow her off, tell her to get lost and testify against her. Maybe if they actually talked it would make a difference this time. And maybe it would snow in August, too.

She was nuts, insane, crazy, but she claimed to love him—screwed up as that was. She might agree to do what he asked...about the same time it rained up.

The worst that could happen would be that—no. The worst that would happen would be that he'd cause her to ratchet things up again and he thought of the old joke, 'don't shoot her, you'll just make her mad'.

Besides, she had hinted pretty strongly in that last letter, the one that finally caught up with him two days ago (and six months after it was mailed) about her getting out of the sanatorium, that she had made the connection between Dick Grayson and Robin and Nightwing. And if she had, then she knew about Bruce and probably about the Titans, as well.

If she had, it needed to be contained and he didn't want that to come out when she was in some holding cell.

The two men finished their dinner, Dick paid the bill as he'd planned and they walked back to the station to get their vehicles. Laura was still waiting out front. Dick said goodnight to Tom and walked over to her. She didn't seem surprised to see him approach. It was like she had expected it and was just waiting for it to happen.

"Hello, Laura. Were you waiting for me?"

She smiled at him, almost a little shy. "You know I've been waiting for years now. Have you made up your mind yet?"

Of course. "Well, I think that we should talk about that."

"Here?" She looked around. It was a grimy city sidewalk with litter blowing along and dirty water in the gutters. "We'd be more comfortable somewhere else."

He took a breath and spoke conversationally. "This isn't going to happen, Laura. You and me, it isn't. We used to go out a long time ago, but I've moved on. I'm with someone else now and you need to understand that."

"That won't last. You mean that girl in the wheelchair? She's not good enough for you, Richard. You should be with someone who can do all the things you like to do—ski and run and all of that. You'll resent her soon when you have to do all those things alone."

"I'm in love with her and it's time for you to leave me alone now."

She smiled at him like he simply didn't understand a basic truth. "It won't last and I'll wait."

"Laura, I want you to leave me alone and I want you to leave my girlfriend alone as well. If you keep hanging around here, I'll have you brought in for violating the restraining order. Do you understand what I'm saying? You'll be sent to jail."

She smiled again. Richard could be so stern and serious sometimes, but he was such a sweetheart she could forgive him anything. Well, she was distracting him from his work by being here, and she didn't want to do that. If he saw her standing here, then he'd be thinking about her all day, just like she was thinking about him and then maybe he could get hurt.

"Whatever you want." Reaching up she kissed his cheek. Picking up her bag she smiled at him again, turned and walked to the bus stop.

That was it?

That was all he had to do?

Not frigging likely.

He watched to make sure she got on a bus he knew went nowhere near either his place or a connection to anything which could get her to Barbara's, then took out his cell phone. After a quick check to get the right number, the phone was ringing at the Woodwards' home in a suburb of Chicago.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Woodward? This is Di—Richard Grayson in Bludhaven. I'm sorry to call you like this, but I was just speaking with Laura and I need to know if you could tell me anything about her which might be helpful to me."

"...Laura's in Bludhaven? I—we thought that she was up in Boston at school." Dick heard some talking in the background; obviously Lynn Woodward was getting in on the conversation. There was some back and forth. "After she was released, she said she wanted to continue her education and we took her to her dorm ourselves. We've been getting letters from there—are you sure you're not mistaken?"

"I just spoke to her face-to-face a few minutes ago and she's been hanging around the place I work for a couple of months now."

"Has she done anything—um—well, you know. Has she done anything?"

"Other than loitering here and tailing me, no, not yet. Is she still in treatment or on medication?"

"Of course. That was one of the conditions of her release."

Great, right. And no one was checking on her. Why the fuck hadn't these people had her declared incompetent and become her guardians or something? Christ.

"Would it be possible for one of you, or perhaps a friend to come get her? I don't want to have her arrested tomorrow but I will if she doesn't leave me alone."

There was some more background talk. "Of course, we'll be there as soon as we can get there. Where is she?"

"I work at Precinct #37, Bludhaven PD. You can get me through them and she's been hanging around the station house whenever I'm on duty. She's not hard to find."

"We'll be there tomorrow, the earliest flight we can get."

"Good."

"But she promised us that she'd stay at school. She seemed so determined this time to really get better."

"I know, but—we have to go, you know that. He said he'd arrest her and he works in a police station, for God's sake. We have to bring her home."

"What the hell is someone like Richard doing as a cop in that horrible place? With all the resources and the advantages he was brought up with you'd have thought that he'd make something of himself."

"You know how kids are. It's probably just a 'fuck you' to Wayne or something."

"Now, John; I never thought Richard was the type for that. He was so well brought up. And Laura has caused some problems for him."

"The child is unwell and they know that, you'd think that they could be a little sympathetic to the child for God's sake. Well, Wayne can be a pretty hard assed bastard when he sets his mind to it. Maybe Richard finally just had enough of it—either that or he's learned from the master."

"Or maybe he's still trying to get over his parents' deaths or it's a phase or something. It could be something like that, you know. God, my poor baby. I really thought that this time she was over him."

Half an hour later he was outside of the Clocktower, Barbara pushing the clearance that would let him in.

"Hey, I didn't expect to see you tonight. You miss me that much?" She hugged him as well as she could from the chair.

He had a feeling that Barbara shouldn't be alone tonight, even if she did have the best security in the world. "You know I always miss you."

She pulled back from the hug. "What's going on? You told me that you had work and then you'd be patrolling tonight, remember? Something about bank robbers?"

"I changed my mind."

"You never change your mind, now what's going on?"

"Jesus, woman, I come over to see my girlfriend and I'm committing a damn crime. I can leave if you want, I mean if you'd rather be alone. I can go any time. If you really want to spend the evening alone, sleep in that big bed all by yourself, I'm sure that wouldn't be a problem...wouldn't want to force you to do anything you're uncomfortable with or anything."

"No hidden agenda? I know you, you never just drop in for the night—oh, God, what am I saying here?"

Dick picked her up and was about to carry her to the bedroom when she quietly asked him to take her into the bathroom first so they wouldn't have to be interrupted later. While he waited for her he casually picked up a copy of Newsweek and saw the letter beneath it.

It was handwritten on pink linen paper.

Shit.

"_**You leave him alone, you hear me?**_

_**Richard is mine—you got that? MINE.**_

_**You think he's with you? You think he loves you? Bull. He loves me and all the nights he's not staying in there with you because he feels sorry for you, he's with me.**_

_**Amazing what people will do when pity comes into it, no? Have you thought about who else would have you? I mean, other than as a charity case?**_

_**No one, that's who.**_

_**The words 'pity fuck' mean anything to you?**_

_**He's with me and I do things for him you can't and you never will, you understand me, bitch?**_

_**WE do things that you haven't been able to do since you got shot and what was it—raped? How many times do you think he's thought it's just a shame you're still breathing?**_

_**Been dancing lately, have you?**_

_**How about a nice bike ride or—better yet, how about a spin on his motorcycle? Maybe a nice jog in the park would be fun.**_

_**I mean, how do you feel everyday when you get up? Can you even do that? Do you need someone to get you out of bed and get you dressed and all the rest? You think Richard won't get tired of that?**_

_**You think he won't want a real woman? One who's whole and not a cripple like you?**_

_**Can you give him children? He wants them, you know. You can't, can you? You'll never be able to give him what he wants and you sure can't give him what he needs.**_

_**And you're old—you know that? You know how old Richard is? He's twenty-two. You're, what? Thirty?**_

_**Even if you weren't a gimp, you'd be too old for him and he knows that, too.**_

_**Let's recap, shall we? You're too old, you can't give Richard the children he wants and you can't share all the things he likes to do like skiing and gymnastics because you're a cripple.**_

_**Do him—and yourself a favor, bitch, leave him alone.**_

_**You're pathetic and everyone knows it. They see you with someone like Richard and they know it's because no one else will have you. They feel sorry for you just like he does.**_

_**The only way you ever got him was to give it away, right?**_

_**Look in the mirror, why don't you and then look at him.**_

_**Let's just compare.**_

_**Oh, and let's not even get into how easy it would be for someone like you to have an accident, shall we?**_

_**We wouldn't want to think about that, now, would we?**_

There was more on this page and there was a stack of several dozen more letters under this one. Like the letters to Dick, they all basically said the same thing.

God, how long had Barbara been getting these things? Why hadn't she said something? Jesus.

She called him from the bathroom and he went to get her but instead of depositing her on the bed as she expected, he brought her out to the living room and sat her on the couch next to him.

"You should have told me." He put his jacket back on and got Barbara's out of the closet, wheeled her chair from where she'd left it, picked her up again and put her in it.

"Dick, where are we going?" She saw the letters sitting out. "Oh, for God's sake, this is ridiculous, there was no point. It would have just upset you and there isn't anything she can do to me. You know that she can't get in here and I'm fine."

"Bullshit, Barbara. You should have told me—you have no right not letting me know about this. None."

"Like you told anyone and this has been going on since—when? You were in high school? This is _me_, Dick. I push a button and the entire Justice League is at my door. I'm not the one in danger here."

He was as angry as she'd ever seen him, and that was going some. For a person basically completely good natured, he owned a hell of a temper. "This is my problem and you know that and if she's now involved you, then I have a right to know about it."

"Damnit, the real question is why didn't you tell any of us that this idiot is back again and how long has this been going on now this time?" He had her over to the elevator, obviously angry, though with her or himself or Laura she had no idea. "Where are we going?"

He was mad at everyone by now. Fed up. He'd had it.

"Someplace you'll be safe."

"Dick, I was perfectly safe in my own home and why the sudden concern? Will you stop pushing this chair? I thought we were going to stay here so you could protect me, for God's sake."

Down in the street, he got her keys from her pocket, opened her van and tried to get her into position against her will.

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me about those letters?" He was more than just angry, he was scared and she hadn't seen that since he was about twelve years old. "And how long have you been receiving them?"

"I wasn't in any danger and there was no reason to upset you..." She put on her hand brake to slow him from loading her into the van. "A few months, maybe five or six, something like that. Will you stop? I want to stay in my own home, there's no reason..."

"How the hell can you say that? No reason? She burned down the damn boarding house, she blew up my almost wedding—no reason? Jesus, and you just assumed that the protection fairy would just fly around you forever? I'm taking you to the Manor, you'll be safe there and you can still work on Bruce's equipment." He released her brake himself but she rolled backwards a good twenty yards while he was lowering the lift, away from him and down towards her own door. "Barb? C'mon, will you? Just do this. For me?"

He turned to get her and had taken the first step when the blast caught him.

The van exploded in a fireball.

TBC

24


	13. Part 13

Title: My Richard. Part Thirteen

Author: Simon

Characters: Dick/OC

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Dick's accident

Warnings: None

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Feedback: Hell, yes. 

Thanks again, Jim...who wrote the opening paragraphs of this part, bless his heart. He butched up the thing!

**My Richard**

Part Thirteen 

Three years ago 

There was a sort of twisted poetry to it. The images unfolding before her were a vibrant mixture of violence and destruction. But right there in the center of it was Dick Grayson, her true love, proving for the millionth time that the word "impossible" just doesn't apply to him. The explosion was apparently triggered by the activation of the hydraulic lift in her van. There was a moment, no more than a split second, where the sudden bending of his knees silenced her words of protest.

Something had told him what was about to happen, some small clue, some sound or spark. He knew.

It was very familiar to her, the telltale sight of Robin's legs coiling with kinetic energy, readying himself for action. Dick quickly turned to her, a look of terror on his face, and she could see his lips beginning to form her name even as he started to reach in her direction.

Then it hit.

Barbara sat transfixed, part of her horrified yet equally in awe, by the shape of his body as he propelled himself into the air. The force of the explosion carried behind him, forcing him to reach a sickening speed in flight. He approached the stone wall of the Clocktower at terminal velocity, a sight that made Barbara's wide and tear-filled eyes flinch. Then his body arched upward as he bent his back to change his center of gravity. His feet began to come forward, and he used that momentum to turn two backward somersaults that increased his upward angle.

He was now in better position, but his trajectory was off and he was still moving entirely too fast. Barbara winced and yelled out as his feet hit the wall, his left foot striking just before his right. She saw his left leg buckle violently and she would later swear that she heard him scream. But his right leg held true, absorbing the impact squarely, and then propelling him backward and away from the wall.

And that appeared to be the moment he lost consciousness and fell awkwardly to the pavement from some thirty feet in the air.

The van was totaled, that was apparent the moment it exploded and Barbara's first impulse was to get as far away as she could, but Dick was sprawled on the asphalt, unmoving and hurt. Dick's Kawasaki, his pride and joy, had been caught in the blast and was destroyed, the few semi-recognizable parts either charred or burning under the streetlights. She dialed 911 on her cell as she saw the slight figure of the girl run from the shadows to where Dick lay on his back, limbs askew, one leg hideously broken and bleeding.

The sirens got closer as she went over to where Dick lay in the street, the other girl crying and distraught, Dick still unresponsive as a small pool of blood was spreading from his leg.

The girl—it had to be Laura—seemed unable to focus on anything other than Dick, holding him, crying, and crooning to him that he'd be alright, he'd be fine and she'd take care of him. She hadn't meant for him to be hurt, she was sorry. She was so, so sorry. She loved him, had always loved him, and would always love him.

She begged him to forgive her, to not be angry with her. She'd do anything, anything to make it right.

There was so much blood, and she'd never meant to hurt him. It was all her fault, she was so terribly sorry.

She loved him. She would always love him. Kissing his face, she brushed the lock of hair from his eyes, kissing his forehead, his cheeks, his mouth, and his jaw. She held his hands, raw from the pavement and began renewed crying after seeing his blood on her own fingers.

This was the woman who had probably planted a bomb under the van to kill Barbara.

The ambulance arrived along with a squad car.

"He's an officer with BPD, he should have his ID in his wallet. His name is Richard Grayson, assigned to the thirty-seventh precinct." The cops checked, an injured policeman would get preferential treatment at the ER; he wouldn't have to wait.

"You know what happened here, miss?" The Sergeant was addressing Barbara; Laura was in shock and refusing to let go of Dick's hand, kissing the back of it and rubbing it against her own cheek. He was starting to come around, moaning and making weak movements but not forming actual words. In fact, Barbara wanted to be holding his hand and brushing the hair away from his eyes, but this had to come first. She had to think clearly and give them the information they needed.

Besides, with the psycho occupied, she should be alright for a couple of minutes.

"I was about fifty or sixty feet away when it happened and called 911. Something caused the van to explode. It was probably some kind of bomb. You should check it—what's left of it. The bike was just caught in the blast."

"We'll do that, m'am. Are you related to the victim?"

Barbara was watching the paramedics work on Dick. They were trying to not hurt his leg any more than they had to but seemed to not be succeeding all that well. He was on oxygen; they'd started a drip of some kind and were calling his vitals in to the hospital. Laura was still crying and telling him how sorry she was and how much she loved him, begging him not to be angry. "He's a friend. We grew up together."

"And the young lady?"

And what did that make her, the old bag? God, try answering this one. Screw it, jump in with both feet.

"She's been stalking him for a few years and probably had something to do with this—she's been convicted of blowing things up before. I think you should question her about this. She's been upset with him lately and...."

The cop was old school and the kind her father had been trying to get rid of for years; rude, arrogant and not the brightest. "_You_ think? Yeah, I'll be sure to do that, miss."

The hell with him. "And I think my father, Commissioner Gordon, would agree."

That got a reaction. His demeanor changed and he was instantly almost subservient and groveling. As long as Dick got the help he needed, it didn't matter, she'd seen it before.

The paramedics lifted Dick onto the gurney, causing him to groan loudly as they jarred his leg. It was clearly a compound fracture, even in the poor light; the bone was jutting out through the torn jeans, blood soaking the fabric. It was sickening to see and Barbara knew it was the kind of injury that could be career ending.

Dick was an athlete, a world-class gymnast and martial artist. If this cost him that...If that insane little bitch cost him that...

He'd lost a lot of blood and was probably in shock. Barbara called Leslie Thompkins at home, telling her that Dick was on his way to Memorial and what his injuries looked like. He had to have the best, period.

The woman would leave for Memorial immediately. She'd take charge of the case and make sure he received the best possible care from whatever specialists were needed, even if she had to call in every favor she'd ever extended in her life. Dick was that important to her. "I'll head over there now, dear. You tell Dick I'll take good care of him. Have you told Bruce or Alfred yet? They should know about this."

Dick was loaded into the back of the ambulance, the paramedics working on him, trying to get him stabilized for the ten-minute trip to the ER. He was in shock, trembling, eyes unfocused.

"...I'll call them."

The cop was talking to Laura. "Do you know how this might have happened, miss?"

She cried harder and was gently restrained as she tried to climb into the back of the ambulance, but through the noise of her crying and the medics talking to one another and the hospital, they all heard, "I didn't mean for it to happen. He wasn't supposed to get hurt, not him. It wasn't meant for him. He'll be alright, won't he? He has to be alright. I promised him that he'd get all better. He has to—he will, won't he?"

"Hey, Pete? There's a detonator here, or part of one, anyway. The van was blown up on purpose." The other cop was kneeling by a piece of wreckage.

"Miss, we need you to come with us." Laura looked up, slightly confused.

"But I have to be with him. He'll be upset if I'm not there. We love each other."

Barbara was close by. "Laura, I'll go with Di—Richard. We're old friends, he'll be alright with me."

Unsure but yielding in the face of a stronger personality, her anger gone now that the bomb had gone off, Laura submitted and allowed herself to be loaded into the squad car. Now that she'd done what she thought needed doing to get Barbara out of the way or to pay Dick back for whatever he'd done—or not done, she was passive as she was led to the police car and loaded into the back.

"Could one of your cars take me over to the hospital? Please?" There was another squad car there now, along with the fire engine to put out what was left of the fire. The two sets of cops exchanged whispers and nods towards Barbara. They all know who she was and she was helped into one of the cars, her chair folded and placed in the trunk

The ambulance was ready to leave, they'd follow it. Dialing her phone as she rode; "Hello? Alfred? I'm sorry to bother you so late, but..."

"Has there been an accident, miss?" Alfred knew. That was just about the only reason she'd call at this time of night and on this line. She could hear in his voice that he was bracing himself for whatever she had to tell him.

"Dick had an accident. He's being taken to Memorial now; we should be there in a few minutes. Leslie is meeting us."

"How seriously is he injured?" She could hear the almost held breath.

"I'm not sure, his leg looked broken at least."

"Thank you, Miss Barbara, I'll inform Master Bruce at once."

Four hours later, Dick was out of surgery. His leg had been shattered, pins were installed to try to hold it together while it mended and they did their best to reattach the tendons and ligaments. But whether he'd recover full use and strength wouldn't be known until several months from now when the cast came off and then only after however many more months of therapy. Leslie had called in an old friend of hers who specialized in orthopedics and who was the best they would get short of going to one of the major medical centers half way across the country.

Stan told her that if the young man hadn't been in such good physical condition, and if he hadn't managed to roll with the explosion, it would have been even worse than it was. At the worst the boy would have a limp, but other than that possibility, he'd still be fine in the long run.

A cop with a limp?

Dick Grayson with a limp?

Nightwing with a limp?

No, it couldn't happen. Dick would carry on and adapt like he always did—like he had when his parents were murdered in front of him, when he'd been remanded to Juvie instead of Foster Care, when Bruce fired him, when Jason was adopted as Bruce's son, when Jason died and Tim took his place.—Dick always made it work for him. Not always happily, but it always worked out in the end.

Sure, they all worked with the knowledge that someday any one of them could be the one to take the hit or the bullet, but Dick? No.

Somehow he was charmed, golden. He always got better. Always.

But this?

He had to recover fully. He had to.

She knew how her paralysis had shattered him as much as it almost destroyed her for a time. They were starting to get past that, but if they, if he, was knocked back to square one again...

It couldn't happen. He had to make a full recovery.

Bruce and Alfred arrived at the hospital within an hour of Barbara's call and Bruce was immediately on the phone to whomever could get him the best physical therapists in the business. They learned with Barbara that Dick would be out of commission for six months at the least and when Bruce had finally turned to her and asked how this could have happened, she told them as much as she knew.

Bruce listened with growing fury and Alfred with growing concern, as she told him how Laura had continued to stalk Dick after her family moved, through letters to his high school, through his short college career and that she was the main suspect in the burning of his boarding house, throughout his aborted romance with Kory, his training with the police and now while he was on the force. The letters arrived from her home, from friends' colleges, from a mental ward. She had sent him presents and cards and gone so far as to send him the catalogue from Tiffany's with engagement rings she liked circled and the pages turned down.

She harassed Dick's friends and Barbara told them about the letters she had been getting since her relationship with Dick became more—personal.

"Why the hell didn't he say something? Hell, I knew about the wedding fiasco, but the rest of it? And it's still going on? For the love of God, what was he thinking? Where was his brain? This went on for seven years? Jesus—that stubborn, pig headed..."

"Wonder where he learned that." He gave her the Bat glare. "Bruce, he didn't want you or Alfred to worry about him. I know, it was dumb, but he wanted to handle it himself—he was handling it, in fact. He called her parents last night and they'll be here today sometime. They were going to take her home or something and if they didn't, he was going to evoke the restraining order and have her arrested, she just..."

"Beat him to the punch?"

"I guess you could say that."

"Where is she now?"

"She's in custody. There'll be a trial—I assume you'll want Dick to press charges along with the ones from the state? Well, fine, but you know as well as I do that she'll be found guilty because of insanity again. She'll be remanded to some facility for treatment."

"Haven't we been down this road already? After that mess of a wedding she was locked up and here she is."

"You know how these things work as well as I do, Bruce. Don't even start."

"I want to make sure this time she's either cured or that she stays wherever they put her. I'm making this the priority for my entire legal staff. They can lock her up or tie her down or drug her to the gills. As long as she's not a threat, I don't care."

Barbara just nodded. That was fine with her as well. In fact, it didn't matter, not right now anyway. All that counted was that Dick get better. That was all that was important. If he didn't, if he had to give up Nightwing or being a cop—if he had to take a desk job or something, that was the punch he wouldn't roll with.

Not easily, anyway.

The hospital staff found an empty room on Dick's floor for his family to rest in that night. Barbara finally fell asleep on one of the beds and eventually Alfred was persuaded to join her in the adjacent bed for a few hours, both of them being told that they wouldn't be any help if they were dead on their feet.

Bruce sat up by Dick's bed all night, refusing to move.

The Woodward's showed up around lunchtime. They had gone to Dick's precinct like they arranged, but were told that Officer Grayson had been in an accident the night before and was in the hospital, they were sorry.

Oh, God, what had Laura done now?

The day before, the parents received another of Laura's letters and it raised their hopes—until Richard's call that night took them back down yet again.

"_**Dear M&D,**_

_**I'm so incredibly happy right now. Richard and I see each other almost every day and we were talking about what kind of engagement ring I'd like just last night.**_

_**He's so sweet to me and his friends here are wonderful. I don't think I've ever met people who are as nice and warm as they are.**_

_**We were talking about a small wedding, just friends and family, so you don't have to worry about the costs or anything. Maybe the back yard would be nice if the weather is good?**_

_**We haven't set a date yet, but soon—before the end of the year.**_

_**Richard asked if I'd like to use the Manor grounds, but I'd rather not, after what happened there. You know what I mean. I think it would be better if we started really fresh and he agrees.**_

_**It frightens me that he's a policeman because it's so dangerous, but I know he can take care of himself. I think he even knows some of those Hero people—I guess he knows them through Bruce or something and of course through that other weird girl he was fooling around with—which I've completely forgiven him for, by the way—so he's in pretty safe company when you think about it.**_

_**I worry, though.**_

_**I get scared when he rides that motorcycle of his—it's big and heavy and he goes so fast on it that I'm terrified. I've asked him to drive a nice safe car, but he loves that horrible machine. I may have to pull out the big guns to get him to sell the thing, but he loves it so much—I don't know. **_

_**I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to him after all we've been through.**_

_**I'll call you soon.**_

_**I love you,**_

_**Laura**_

Learning which hospital, they cabbed over from the station house, walking into his room to find Bruce Wayne sitting beside Richard's bed, talking quietly.

The young man was awake, though obviously drugged and dazed. He seemed to recognize them, however, though he was too out of it to talk with anyone.

"How are you feeling, Richard? We were so upset when we heard—"Lynn Woodward turned to Bruce. She whispered; "He's going to be alright?" The cast on his leg was large and formidable.

Bruce got up, patting Dick on the shoulder as he drifted off again. The painkillers he was on were powerful. "I'll just be out in the hall. Mr. and Mrs. Woodward?" He gestured with his hand, ushering them out of the room as yet another medical tech went in to check Dick's vitals and IV.

"What happened to him?"

"His girlfriend's van blew up just as he stepped away from it. From what I understand, if he had been in the thing, if they had been on the highway or something, they both probably would have been killed. As it is, his leg is so badly injured that I'm having specialists flown in from London to treat him."

"Oh, that poor thing—how could this have...? He was always so careful with things like that." She seemed to latch onto something Bruce said. "His girlfriend? Laura doesn't have a van."

Oh no. Of course.

Lynn went to stand by the hall window, looking out on a parking lot, shaking her head. "We know that Laura is here, Richard told us that she was bothering him again, but when we talked to her—her letters have been so happy. She told us that they were close again. She's here in the city visiting him—but you probably know that, don't you?"

Bruce looked at them for a minute and resisted his impulse to throttle them. How could they not know how dangerous Laura was? How could they be this out of touch with the reality of the situation? Did they really think Dick was still interested in the girl after all this time and everything that had happened, after everything she'd put him through?

Jesus, these people needed to talk to their daughter—or to her therapists. Or to their own.

But then, he hadn't known the extent things had gotten to until Barbara told him the night before. Even Alfred hadn't really known and for Dick to pull the wool over the old man's eyes had taken some doing and real effort on his part. Even when Dick's boarding house was burned down, all he'd said was the local cops suspected an illegal hot plate in one of the other rooms had been left on. He'd taken Dick at his word and left it at that. He'd no idea that the letters and presents had continued for years, that she was even stalking him at his precinct.

Why the hell hadn't Dick said something? Why had he just let it continue all this time?

Because he didn't want his 'parents' worried? Because he wanted to handle it himself? Because he thought it wasn't that big a deal beyond an annoyance or an inconvience?

He knew better, damnit—better than almost anyone, he should have known better. He worked with criminals and unbalanced people every day, he'd done it since he was nine years old—he should have known better and Bruce should have checked.

Jesus.

"Laura is in custody now. She's suspected of planting some kind of bomb in the van." He handed them a piece of paper with the contact information on it and Laura's booking number. One of Dick's fellow cops had dropped it off earlier that morning.

The Woodward's stared at him in shock. "No, that can't be right. There's some mistake."

"She said something about being worried about him riding his motorcycle and wanting to make sure that he stopped for his own safety, but this is completely different than...."

"But...she would never..."

"She wrote us just a few days ago and told us that they're getting married. She said that they're looking at rings. Why would she...?"

"Mrs. Woodward, you know as well as I do that these two aren't getting married. Now, can we drop these games? John, you'll be informed soon enough, anyway. I've already started the legal department to work on this and as soon as Dick is up to it, I'll be talking to him about pressing charges." He held up his hand to stop their protests. "I'm not looking for any kind of revenge any more than I think Dick will, but Laura has been causing problems for him since they were in high school and it's stopping now."

His voice and demeanor brooked no objection. "Besides, even if Dick was willing to let the issue drop, the State will press charges of it's own. I'm going to advise him to join the suit and possibly also press civil charges as well."

"If we checked her into a facility, would that satisfy you, Mr. Wayne?"

"Do you have legal guardianship over her?" Lynn shook her head. "Then, no. Since she's a legal adult, she could check herself out any time. I'm sorry, but I'm going to advise Dick to pursue the case for his own protection and that of his friends and family."

The Woodward's seemed defeated, knowing there was nothing they could do to stop this now.

"We really are very fond of Richard, Mr. Wayne. He's a wonderful young man. I hope—I hope that he'll be alright. His leg, how bad is it, really?"

"We don't know yet, but it's bad enough."

"We came here because Richard asked us to come get Laura yesterday. I, we had no idea that she, we didn't know it had gotten this bad for him." The couple started to leave but John Woodward turned back, catching Bruce just as he was going back into Dick's room. "We thought that the kids might end up together after all this time. Laura has been in love with him since they first met."

That was it, enough. "Your daughter is nuts, Mr. Woodward. I sorry to be blunt, but for Christ's sake, she's now tried to blow my son up twice, she's burned down his home, she's been stalking him for how many years now? And you're sorry they're not getting married?" He was amazed at these people. "You're sorry they're not getting married. You're as crazy as she is."

He went back into the room to be with his son.

The trial was held six months later. The proceedings were closed, a gag order was once again instituted and Richard Grayson took the stand on crutches. His leg was healing, the bones had knitted, but he would be in physical therapy for at least another six months to a year. It would only be at the end of that time that he'd know whether or not he would regain full strength and use of his leg. He was encouraged by his progress and while he had been permitted to return to work, he was forced to limit himself to desk assignments. He spent the time using his detective abilities on a dozen or more cases, but he was frustrated and tense, angry and resentful at what had happened.

He also blamed himself, which caused other problems. He believed that he handled everything badly, that if he had simply told Bruce and whoever else might have needed to know what was going on over the years, that it wouldn't have reached the crisis stage it finally did.

If he had said something, maybe Laura would have gotten more or better help sooner and he wouldn't have broken his leg, Barbara's van wouldn't have been blown up, his wedding to Kory would have made it through to the end, his boarding house wouldn't have burned down and he wouldn't be afraid to open his damn mail box.

He was hard to get along with, often lashing out at Bruce or Barbara and he'd even driven Alfred to walk out of the room more than once.

They all tried to be understanding, but it was wearing thin and his close friends and family privately thought that he was having more trouble coping than he would admit and might well need help to deal with everything he'd been put through.

The trial ended as they expected it would. Laura was found guilty by reason of insanity and remanded to another treatment facility for at least two years, at which time she would be evaluated. After she was led out of the courtroom in tears, her lawyer took Dick's lawyer aside and privately gave him a letter she had written just before the trial. Her parents had intercepted it before it was mailed. They finally seemed to have gotten a grasp on the severity of her illness and so it was turned over to the lawyers. A copy of the thing had been admitted as evidence during the trial, but Dick hadn't read it, not wanting to. Later, over coffee, the lawyer told Bruce who promised to give it to Dick. He could do with it as he wanted.

Alone in his apartment, Dick read the thing.

_**Richard,**_

_**Well, I thought that it would end like this—the trial, I mean. I'm writing this the night before and I know that I'm going to be sent to one of those places again. There was no way I could ever fight against Bruce's lawyers. They're the best, like my Dad is and I could never win against him, either.**_

_**So this is it?**_

_**This is where you get to never see me again as long as you live? That's what you want, isn't it? I know it is, but you're stupid if you think that I'll accept this.**_

_**You're not mine now. That red headed pig can call you that and I know why you're with her—the Commissioner's daughter and you a cop. Sucking up to the top guy by dating his gimp daughter, is that your plan? Maybe hoping for a transfer to a decent city like Gotham, or maybe a nice cushy assignment in a nice rich suburb where you can feel right at home?**_

_**You're disgusting and she's pathetic.**_

_**I've known since we were fifteen that we'd end up together, so you have your little fling. You go ahead.**_

_**This isn't over yet.**_

_**You think I don't know what you do at night? With Bruce? You think I didn't figure out who taught you how to do those things? I'm not stupid. You may think I am, but I'm not.**_

_**I wrote a letter—I'm good at letters, have you noticed?—I wrote a letter to a few newspapers and magazines and a couple of the news stations telling them about your great big secret. The same great big secret you share with Bruce and the same secret some of your friends keep for you.**_

_**That got your attention, didn't it?**_

_**I bet you're wondering right now where those letters are and I'm not telling other than to say, well, don't piss me off. I haven't mailed them and I won't—yet.**_

_**You just do whatever you want to do and I'll be wherever they send me, and the letters will be safely put away for now.**_

_**But I'll be released, sooner or later, and then, well—like I said. Don't piss me off.**_

_Laura_

Dick reread the letter and this time, for the first time since this whole mess had started, he was mad—really angry, like how Bruce got when someone managed to break through the Bat veneer and really annoy him.

Mad like you didn't want to be around. Mad like you knew she'd just made a really big mistake and she was going to regret it.

Mad like you don't forget after a week or a month or a year.

The kind of mad that he'd remember if he saw her again.

TBC

24


	14. Part 14

Title: My Richard. Part Fourteen

Author: Simon

Characters: Dick/OC

Rating: PG-13

Summary: around and around she goes and where she stops...?

Warnings: None

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Feedback: Hell, yes. 

Thanks again, Jim.

My Richard

**Part Fourteen**

**Present Day**

"_**My Richard,**_

_**I was just released from the treatment center today and I feel so much better. When I come to visit you, you'll see how much better I am now than I was.**_

_**You'll be so proud of me!..."**_

So Laura was out of the treatment facility and was back. Were these people complete idiots? Had they gotten their training from a number on the back of a book of matches?

She had been released and almost the first thing she does is contact her former victim.

Well, screw this and the horse it rode in on.

Dick called Laura's probation officer and reported the violation as well as his best guess of where she could be found. He'd been keeping track and knew she was still in touch with that old friend of hers, Becca, the one she'd stayed with while he was a student at Hudson—back when she'd burned down the boarding house. It seemed that Becca was now a buyer at one of Gotham's department stores, less than half an hour from Bludhaven and had a two-bedroom place overlooking the river. Yes, he'd checked, Laura was staying with her.

He'd gone through every place he could think of to find the letters she insisted she had for the media—the letters that would supposedly tell the world everyone's identity. The letters, which would let anyone who cared about it in on the fact that he was Nightwing, his friends were the Titans, where they all lived and that Bruce Wayne was Batman.

He hadn't found them.

He'd checked the files and hard drives of every computer he thought she might have contact with, he'd looked through every nook and cranny he could think of for the damn pink envelopes—every drawer, every box, every closet, everywhere. He'd accessed what he could of safe deposit box accounts in every bank in Gotham, Bludhaven, Chicago, Boston, and up near Hudson U. He'd searched her parents' home and that of her brother.

He came up empty.

He considered the possibility that the letters might not exist but discounted it. She knew who he was, she'd figured it out and she felt betrayed enough to use the information against him and his friends.

The three years since she'd been remanded back to remedial therapy hadn't been easy for either Dick or his friends. Yes, he had slowly come out of the fog of depression and self-accusations of having handled the situation badly and having taken on all the blame, but he still had the possibility of Nightwing being forced into retirement by the badly broken leg to contend with.

That particular monkey was on his back for almost two years.

There had been months of physical therapy and a second operation to attempt to repair the tendons after the first surgery had failed to reattach them. The second try was a success, but it was still over a year before he was anywhere near back to his former level of movement and strength and he'd permanently lost a degree of mobility which would remind him of what he termed his own militant stupidity.

However, Nightwing was back and no one was the wiser—other than Dick himself when the leg hurt him from a hard landing or wouldn't move quite as fast as it used to or as high or as far.

There were still nights when he'd be with Barbara and let her hold him because sometimes that was the only thing that seemed to work.

That he and Barbara were mostly back on track, he credited that with a large part of his mental and emotional recovery. She was a safe haven for him.

He would go to the Clocktower for dinner or after a late patrol and know he was welcome. There was still some hesitation on her part, but it seemed to be lessening more and more as time went by and he was encouraged enough to think that he might have finally found the solution to that part of his life.

"_**I can't wait to see you, I really can't. I know how you don't like me to visit you at work, so you don't have to worry about that. I won't.**_

Do you want to meet at that cute little place we used to go to? The little Italian place over by the river with that sweet terrace overlooking the water? I know how you love Italian food.

_**Say Tuesday at one? Would that be good for you? I know you have your police schedule, but this is so special, maybe you could get off just this once?"**_

He had been promoted to Sergeant in Bludhaven, transferred to a different precinct and from general police work to Violent Crimes. He was being tracked to become a detective and was proud of himself on that front. The corruption would likely never be completely eliminated, but he—and Nightwing—had made a very large impact on the ethics of the BPD and things that had been commonplace a few years ago were becoming rare. A lot of the old timers had been strongly pushed into early retirement and the new cops coming in were a different breed.

He felt like he'd made a difference and once even Bruce told him that he was pleased with how things were coming along down in the Haven. That was high praise and he took it as such.

Bruce. They still had good days and bad ones, but the good seemed to be outnumbering the bad and Alfred said that the Master was relieved and proud that the long estrangement was largely behind them.

Over with the Outsiders, things were also coming along though there were changes. Garth largely left the group because of politics in Atlantis and demands from his wife and son, though none of his old friends really expected the marriage to last. Dick tried to stay in touch, but it was hard because of the distance—both geographical and political. Roy had mellowed with the birth of his daughter and actually enjoyed being a father; something Dick would never have suspected. Wally's marriage had broken up and he spent most of his time with the JLA. And Donna, well, Donna was killed in the line of duty and it hurt Dick too much to think about her so he tried not to, failing too often.

The new members would work out. They were young and needed seasoning, but they'd get there.

It was all mostly pretty good.

Except for the letters in the pink envelops which had started again.

"_**I've been so worried about your poor leg. That night when you got hurt was awful—I've never seen anything so horrible and there was so much blood and you were in pain. I hope I never have to see you like that ever again—all hurt and you were even unconscious.**_

_**It's better, isn't it?**_

_**I was so frightened and that other girl, that gimp girl was just sitting there not doing anything to help.**_

_**I hate her.**_

_**You could have been dying and she wouldn't have done anything."**_

"You're an idiot if you don't stop this bitch. I'm telling you, man. You gotta put a lid on this broad."

"Thank you Roy, for your latest attempt at PC."

"Screw PC and, speaking of that, you're the one who's going to get screwed if you don't deal with this and I don't mean that in a positive, life affirming way, either"

Dick gave him a bored look. He and Roy were hanging in Dick's apartment in the Haven, the pizza was mostly eaten and they were halfway through their second six-pack. It was well past midnight and neither one was feeling any pain.

"I am dealing with it. Drop it."

"Bullshit, you are. You tried—and failed—to find the letters. You called in and had her arrested because of a restraining order violation and she was out of jail in three days. Have you even told Barbara that Madam Nutcase is out again? Does Bruce know?"

Silence.

"Jesus, you jackass—you haven't, have you? What the fuck are you waiting for this time; an engraved invitation on pink paper?"

"I'm not waiting for anything. I've strengthened the security at the Clocktower again."

"And Barbara wasn't suspicious? This is a smart person you're talking about here, junior. She's not going to buy that you were just changing the screens for her."

"She knows that Laura is out and she also knows that I'm taking care of it."

"And Bruce? Alfred? Jim Gordon? Y'know, your father-in-law might be a little concerned."

"Bruce is in Japan for that merger, Jim—who is not my father-in-law..."

"Yet."

"... Has been copied on everything about the case and Alfred is fine."

Roy popped another can open, handed it to Dick, opened another for himself and they tapped cans together in a toast. "Okay, then."

"Okay."

They finished the second pack of beer and made a good dent in the third when they both fell asleep. Or passed out. By two the next afternoon when the knocking at the door woke him up, Roy's mouth tasted like a sewer and he was hung over. "Grayson. Get the door."

Nothing. "Hey, Grayson, you have company." Silence. "Christ, Dick, get your ass out of bed, will you?" Still nothing but the continuing, way-too-loud knocking.

Reluctantly, rubbing the crap out of his eyes and hoping to hell at Dick had legal drugs in his medicine cabinet, Roy pulled himself up and over to the front door, opening it enough to look out.

"_**You think I'm bluffing about those letters? You're stupid if you think that.**_

_**I'm not a liar. **_

_**You are, but I'm not.**_

_**The letters are all ready to go, they even have stamps on them."**_

"Yeah?"

Small, blonde, pretty and way the hell too cheerful.

"Hi, is Richard here?"

Richard? Who the hell called Dick 'Richard'? "Hey, Dick? You up?" No answer. "I guess he's still sleeping. You want to leave a message or something?"

"Well, could I come in? He's expecting me and I promised him I'd stop by when I got the chance. We're old friends." She gave Roy a closer look, still smiling. "I'm Laura. Have we met?"

He took a closer look at her. Now that she mentioned it—Holy fuck, but, "Nah, I don't think so. I would have remembered you. Uh, I'm Roy." He stepped aside to let her in. Dick would want to know about this. He'd want to talk to her as soon as possible—like yesterday. "I'll see if I can get him up. Come on in, make yourself comfortable."

He went into Dick's room, but the unmade bed was empty as was the bathroom. Finally he found the scrawled note on the cluttered kitchen counter.

"_**Had to go in to work. Help yourself to anything. Later. D"**_

The girl was at his side reading the note. "That's alright. I have some things I can do here anyway while I'm waiting for him." Roy gave her a questioning look. "Really, it's okay. Richard and I are friends. Why don't you go get cleaned up and I'll be just fine."

Like he was about to leave her alone, but... "I have to call my wife, I'll just be a minute."

She smiled again—still. "Sure, no problem. Hey, are you sure we've never met?"

"I'm sure. Di—right, Richard has a couple of friends named 'Roy'. I'm the other one." She nodded, accepting and probably not thinking him important enough to bother about.

He went to the bedroom, leaving the door ajar so he could keep an eye on her. Taking his cell out, he was relieved to see it still had a charge and hit his address book, pushing phone number eight on the list.

"Grayson."

"Good morning, you have a visitor, Richard."

"Roy? What the fuck are you talking...? Oh, crap—are you shitting me? Where?"

"Your place. You want me to entertain her for you?"

"I'll be there in twenty. Keep her there."

He ran the water in the bathroom sink for a minute and flushed the toilet so she'd think he was doing normal stuff, then downed a couple of extra strength Tylenols before going out. Back to the main room she was in the middle of cleaning the mess they'd made the night before.

"Richard is such a sweetheart, but he's the worst slob! I swear, I can never get that man to pick up after himself." She was dumping the many beer empties into the recycling and throwing out the congealed pizza, putting the boxes into the trash. "I know you two had a good time, but he really shouldn't drink—and all this pizza? I mean, can you imagine him with a beer belly? Yuck!" She laughed at the thought. "Are you two close friends?"

"Brothers, since we were eleven."

Dick Grayson without his six pack and not the kind you get at the liquor store? Like that would ever happen. The man was born with those abs, for Christ's sake.

"You and Di—Richard are pretty close, I take it?"

She blushed prettily, eyes lowered. "Well, you know."

He nodded, of course. "Have you known him long?"

She was still tidying up, straightening throw pillows, refolding the afghan that lived on the back of the sofa. "Since high school. We went steady all through and—God, this is embarrassing, we were the Prom King and Queen. They took pictures for the yearbook and everything." She started on the dishes in the sink, loading the dishwasher as she kept talking. "I probably shouldn't even tell you, but that was the night we first—you know. The first time we did it." She was lost in the beauty of the memory for a few moments. "He was so wonderful."

Dick didn't go to his prom. That was the week they had to go to Japan to help fight the Fearsome Five.

Finished with the dishes and wiping down the counters, she moved into the bedroom. "I don't think Richard has made a single bed since I've known him—first his mother did it for him, then Alfred and now I guess I have the job. Sometimes I wonder if he even knows how to do laundry—he's like a big baby sometimes with these things!"

In fact Dick could run a washer as well as anyone. He was just a little busy, what with two jobs and the Outsiders, plus Barbara to keep happy. He was also capable of loading a dishwasher or making his bed. He usually didn't bother.

Laura's eyes landed on the framed photo of Dick and Babs taken last Christmas over at the Manor. They were together on the couch in the living room with a corner of the tree behind them. She was sitting on his lap; their arms were around each other and the both of them looked completely relaxed, at ease, and so damn happy. No, more than just happy; they looked content.

"That's his sister. He takes care of her sometimes."

That surprised even Roy. "Di—sorry, Richard is an only child."

"No he isn't. That's his sister. He told me so himself."

Oh boy. Whatever.

"Right. Have you met her? If you're with him, you must know her."

"Oh sure. She's great." The bed wasn't just made; she stripped it, put the linens in the bathroom hamper and dug a fresh set of sheets out of the closet. "Purple, lime green and pink paisley sheets? What was he thinking?"

They'd been a joke gift a few of years ago from Donna and Terry—when they were still together. Before they both died. After hearing Alfred's pronouncement that anything other than pure white bedding was vulgar, they had gone out of their way to outfit Dick's bed with the ugliest sheets they could find. They were amazingly awful and came with Donna's guarantee that they would impress any overnight guests.

"Hey Roy? Is Richard's leg better? I mean after he broke it a couple of years ago falling off his motorcycle I was so worried. He's alright, isn't he?"

"He's fine." After two operations and almost two years of PT, yeah, he's just dandy, you bitch. And he didn't fall off his bike; you blew it up along with the van. Anyone else would probably still be on crutches, but Dick pulled off a full recovery by working harder and longer than anyone thought possible.

The front door opened and Dick walked in wearing his police uniform and his Nightwing expression. Roy went out to meet him. "She's in the bedroom and she's, um, she thinks..."

"That we're an item. Yeah, I know."

The two men walked into the other room just as Laura finished fluffing the pillows and put them up by the headboard.

"Laura, you're not supposed to be here, you know that."

"You aren't still mad about that little thing with that van, are you? Your friend here told me that your leg is all better and everything." She was hugging him, hard. "You smell so good, you always smell so good and you feel so strong." She reached up and kissed his cheek.

"I'm arresting you for violating the restraining order again." There were two other cops in the living room now.

"Oh, Richard. You don't mean that."

"Take her down to the car, I'll be right there." He nodded to the other two officers who handcuffed her and started to lead her out.

"Richard? You remember those letters? I mailed them this morning."

She was led out.

Roy caught his arm. "_Those_ letters?"

"_**I'll close now because I want you to get this really soon.**_

_**I love you, I love you, I love you.**_

_**Yours forever,**_

_**Laura**_

"She's been threatening me with these supposed letters to the press about everyone's secret identity."

Roy stared at him. "And...?"

"And I think she's bluffing."

"You think? You're not sure? If she's figured it out then Bruce is busted and the Titans, Outsiders, whatever—Jesus. This could be..."

"A mess. I know. But I think she's bullshitting."

"Christ, Dick, if you're wrong..."

"It'll be fine. Why don't you take a shower or something? I'm going to swing over to Barbara's and let her know what's going on then I have to get back to the station."

Roy couldn't believe the nonchalance. "Thanks, but I have to get back to check on Lian."

He found his shoes. "Man, if you're wrong..."

"Don't worry about it, Roy."

They were lying in her bed together. It was post sex and they were at the stage of just coasting on the feelings, both physical end emotional. Or Dick was, anyway. He'd get back to the station soon enough, an hour more or less wouldn't make that much difference. It wasn't like he'd ever done it before or was about to make a habit out of it, but just this once.

"I absolutely can't believe you're not doing anything about this. If she really mailed those letters then we're all in trouble, are you not getting this for some reason?"

"She didn't mail any letters." He tried to rekindle the mood by stroking her arm, her side and anything else in reach he knew she could feel. He didn't succeed.

"And you know this because you've gone postal now?"

"Smart ass. I know this because I spoke to her friend, Becca, and Becca took the letters out of Laura's purse and replaced them with blank paper in her pink envelopes. I have the real letters here."

"And if she made copies?"

"She didn't."

"And you know this because—Jesus, Dick, what are we playing here? Twenty questions?"

"She spent most of last night writing the letters. Becca was concerned about what she was doing so when Laura fell asleep, she called me and made the switch. There are no copies and Laura has no reason to believe that she mailed blanks."

"And I take it you've been in touch with this Becca person since...?"

"Since Hudson."

"Of course."

"But she obviously read them and if there's information that..."

"It's fine."

"Dick, how can you say that? The things Laura was threatening..."

"Barbara—it's fine. It's alright. Change the subject."

"Really?"

"Really."

She kissed him again, tightening her arms around him. He had planned to just stop in to make sure Babs was alright, he really had, but, well, hell. They hadn't seen each other in almost a week and he was tense and she was glad to see him...the mood was returning, at least for Dick.

"So this is the end of it?"

He hesitated a second. She knew what that meant. "She'll be evaluated by the shrinks, but she's smart enough to work the system. She'll be out pretty fast—maybe a week or two, a month at the most."

He could feel that she was upset by that. This had gone on too long. "And so she'll be back? What are we supposed to do? Just keep going in circles?"

"It'll end."

"How?"

"It will."

TBC

19


	15. Conclusion

Title: My Richard. Part Fifteen Conclusion

Author: Simon

Characters: Dick/OC

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Finally...

Warnings: None

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Feedback: Hell, yes. 

Betaboy, aka Jim Greeno, has gone above and beyond on this probably too long series. He kept the thing on track and fed me endless canon facts I know less than nothing about, from current Titan membership to Dick's motorcycle of choice...Good job and well done, Jim!

**My Richard**

Part Fifteen 

Present Day 

"So what did the letters really say? The ones that friend of hers intercepted?"

It was one of those rare days off when the air was clean, crisp, and the sun was bright without being glaring or too hot.

Perfect.

Dick and Bruce were walking one of the paths on the Manor grounds, the one that went to the cliffs overlooking the water. It was unusual lately for them to have time together, let alone the kind of time that would allow for something as normal as a walk. This being them, they were using the chance to discuss an insane stalker. And they were talking together like a normal father and son. Both reveled in the ease of their conversation, long may it last.

"You know how I thought they were about everyone's identities? I was wrong—well, she lied and I was dumb enough to believe her."

"Oh?" Proof enough of Dick's state of mind to believe that kind of lie or exaggeration.

"They just repeated that old crap about us being gay and you taking me in because you liked little boys. You know—same old."

"And even if they had gone out, no one would have printed them without being sued so they probably would have been filed in the garbage." Bruce's lawyers were among the most feared in the business when it came to libel and he didn't hesitate to use them.

"Well, the crap papers would have done something with them, but even they know how you respond to that kind of thing, so they would have stepped lightly."

"Do you think she really suspected our other identities?"

"I know she wondered why I had to spend so much time with you when I was younger, but, no. I think she was jealous and just made a wrong assumption based on the rumors."

They stood on the bluff looking down to the water. Bruce loved it out here and chastised himself for not coming more often. "So she's back in custody after showing up at your apartment?"

"For now. She's being sent back to treatment, but it looks like she's smart enough to scam her doctors and there's no way to really get around that. I can't demand she get a new shrink so, yeah, she'll be out sooner or later."

"You'll be informed when she's released, of course."

"Of course, and I may even be allowed to speak at any hearing she has, but, sure—she'll get out again."

"How are things going with you and Barbara?"

"It's good." That simple sentence told Bruce what he wanted to know. His son was healthy again and he was happily in love. "I'm going over there later." He felt a stab of jealousy at the back of his mind and dismissed it immediately. Dick deserved as much happiness as anyone did, even if Bruce's lot was to be alone.

"Any idea how long Laura will be locked up this time?"

Dick sat down on the bench at the head of the path, now warmed by the sun. "No, I don't. I did hear that her parents have petitioned the court to have her declared incompetent and be named her legal guardians. That may help things."

"I hope so." Bruce sat down beside Dick. A companionable silence was between them, calm. They were, rare for them, relaxed together.

"How are you doing, Bruce? Things okay?"

He nodded. "Things are—coming along."

His face still turned to the water, Dick smiled.

"How was the young Master?"

Bruce had seen Dick off by the garage where he'd pulled in for some gas. The new bike, his new modified Ninja, had just been delivered and while Bruce knew Dick could handle anything on two wheels—or four or eighteen wheels, for that matter—there was a parental part of him that had to restrain himself from telling his son to 'be careful' as he got on and fastened his helmet.

Dick was always careful.

Well, no. That wasn't true. Dick was an adrenalin junkie of the first order.

He was always in control, though, barring something unforeseen...

He'd be fine.

"Dick seems very well. He didn't come in to see you?" Dick knew better than that, he knew Alfred doted on him.

Alfred was putting the roast in the oven, the wine was breathing and the new potatoes had been peeled. A few friends were coming over this evening and the old man liked things to be done just so.

"He did, but seemed in a hurry as young people usually are. I must say how pleased I was to see him walking so well now. That was—worrisome."

Bruce smiled at that. "Yes, it was that." He picked up an apple from a bowl on the counter. "I think he'll be alright."

"Yes, I suspect he'll be just fine." He was arranging canapés on a silver platter. "I'm really quite proud of him, sir." Bruce agreed, but, as was his way, said nothing.

"But she's so much better, Mr. Woodward. I know she's anxious to go home. Surely you can see that she's made tremendous strides while she's been with us here."

He was on the phone in his study; door closed so Lynn wouldn't overhear and be upset by whatever was coming this time. "Well, yes, I do see that, but we've thought so before and it just wasn't the case. How can we be sure? She has you there to talk with, and support from the rest of the staff. I think that may be the best place for her right now."

"With all respect, I really think that what Laura needs right now is to know that you support her and believe that she'll succeed on the outside in a normal environment. I've been working with her for several months now and she understands that her relationship with this young man is unhealthy for both of them and must be ended."

"That's good, if she's accepting that then..."

"And since she's gotten to this point, I feel strongly that the best thing for her now is to join society and move on. I'm sure she's ready for this."

"But, Doctor, she's been stalking this boy for over seven years now, she's been violent and..."

"Of course, and now she understands how wrong and unacceptable her actions have been. In fact, she's very upset about how she's acted towards this person. She's written him a letter apologizing to him and the young lady he's currently involved with, as well as letters to the man's family. I really think that she's ready to be released."

"Would it be possible for me to speak with my daughter?"

"Of course, she's right here."

"Daddy?"

"Laura? Are you sure? You really think you're ready to come home now?"

"I am. Dr. Schmidt has been so wonderful that I'm so much better you'll hardly recognize me. Honestly, I feel completely different and all I want to do is come home and maybe finish my schooling and do something useful. God, I feel like I've wasted so much time. Please, Daddy? Please?"

"Honey, put the Doctor back on, will you?...What about Richard Grayson? Doesn't he have the right to speak to the authorities before Laura is considered for release?"

"He has that right, and we're attempting to contact him now. As soon as he has his chance, we'll be able to move this through."

"Are you having a problem getting a hold of him?"

"We've left several messages at his home with no return calls."

"He's on the Bludhaven Police Force, he should be easy enough to get in touch with."

"Yes, we're trying. Now, just so we're clear here, if Laura is released, she'll be able to stay with you and your wife, is that correct?"

"Yes, she can stay here, but Richard has to be notified...are you sure Laura is ready for this?"

"Laura is more than ready and we're taking care of that end of things, Mr. Woodward. I'll call you soon."

_**Dear Richard,**_

_**I'm so terribly sorry for everything I've put you through the last few years, and I know it's asking too much, but could you possibly forgive me?**_

_**I never intended to hurt you or cause you any kind of pain or distress. You know that all I ever really wanted was your friendship.**_

_**The doctors are thinking about releasing me and I know you'll want to make sure I'm better before that happens. I don't know how to convince you that I'm alright now other than to just tell you, but it's true.**_

_**I am better. I know now that what I was doing and how I was behaving were bad not just for you but for myself as well.**_

_**I can see how I've upset you over the years and treated you unfairly—you and other people as well and I will regret that until the day I die.**_

_**I did things that I'll never forgive myself for and I can only hope—because you're such a good person, that you'll be able to find it in your heart to let me try to get on with my life, like you're getting on with your own.**_

_**Laura**_

The letter, along with others she wrote, were mistakenly put in Laura's file and never mailed. Through an oversight, Dick was never informed of her impending release.

Six weeks later around five in the afternoon, Dick was at work in his new precinct house when one of the men came over to his desk. "Hey, Sarge? A girl outside asked me to make sure you got this, she said she didn't want you going hungry."

It was a bag from a take out place, Chinese, and smelled pretty good.

He'd been with Barbara last night and went to work straight from her place for a double shift—this was the kind of thing she might do if she was out doing errands or something. Well, actually lately he'd been staying with her more than he slept at his own place. "Was she a redhead?"

"The girl? Nah, blonde and real pretty." The new man smiled, "I never figured you for the kind to have something going on the side."

Shit.

He got up and stared out the window overlooking the street, staying to the side so he wouldn't be seen.

Laura, just the same as always. She had a book and was sitting on the stoop of the brownstone across the street. Jesus. Here we go again and when the hell was this going to frigging end?

Well, fine. Enough. Screw this.

"Tony? Come with me."

They walked out the front door and were half way to her when she looked up, jumped to her feet and threw her arms around him, swinging him around and kissing him as he tried to disengage.

"Oh, God, I missed you so much! Did you miss me? Did you? I know you did. I just know it! I was going to write you or call you, but then I thought it would be fun to surprise you and so—you are surprised, aren't you? Happy surprise? Good surprise?"

He managed to pry her arms from around his neck, his stance was angry and his face was as dark as she'd ever seen him.

"Oh, God—you're not happy. I knew it; I shouldn't have bothered you at work. I know how much you hate that. I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry. Can you forgive me? Can you? Don't be angry with me? Richard? You're not mad are you? Please, Richard, please?"

"Tony, this woman is in violation of a restraining order I have against her and which I have a copy of in my desk. Please arrest her."

"Sarge?"

A Nightwing look from Dick and Laura was in a holding cell, yet again.

Dick ran a quick check. Laura had been released four weeks ago to her parents' care. He found their Chicago number.

"Mr. Woodward?"

"Yes?"

"This is Di—shit, Richard Grayson. Are you aware that Laura is in Bludhaven?"

"You're mistaken, Richard. Laura was at school all day and is at her job now."

"She's in a holding cell two floors below me. She's being booked and then I'm pressing charges against her for violation—again—of the restraining order.

"But—she's—no, that's not possible...can I call you right back? Ten minutes, tops."

"Sure, whatever."

Five minutes later John Woodward was back on the line. He'd checked, Laura hadn't shown up either at class or at her job. "She must have taken a bus or cab to the airport—Jesus, Richard, I had no idea she'd do something like this. I swear. I'll be on the next plane. I'll take care of her."

"She'll be here."

The next day John showed up to see his daughter. She had a hearing a week or so later—the wheels being greased since it involved a cop—and was told to serve a week for violation of the order and after that time was up, she was told that any further infraction would result in her being remanded back to a treatment facility. She was ordered to stay at least one hundred yards away from Richard Grayson, or his residence or workplace, at all times and was prohibited from attempting to contact him in any way.

She was subdued and said she understood what she was being told.

Her father would be back to get her in a week.

Dick was furious at the breakdown in the system, but not surprised. He called the psychiatric hospital where she'd last been treated and spoke to her psychologist who, citing patient/doctor confidentiality, refused to discuss the case with him other than to offer her sympathies about what a difficult ordeal he must have been through.

He called his lawyer, one of the top people on Bruce's legal team and demanded to know what, if anything, could be done to prevent this from happening again. The bottom line? Unless she committed another actual crime, blew up another van or burned down another house—frankly not much.

The lawyer called John Woodward and told him, both as lawyer-to-lawyer and father-to-father, that this was the end of this, that this wouldn't be tolerated and this was the end of the line as far as they were concerned. Both Mr. Grayson and Mr. Wayne were extremely upset by this latest problem and it wasn't to happen again.

Was that clear? This was it. The next step would be to take legal action against the Woodward's as Laura's legal guardians. They would be sued for emotional distress and failure to fulfill their obligations regarding their daughter. There would be consequences, serious ones. This stopped now. Period.

Barbara was as close to distraught as Dick had seen her when she found out and Dick was about as upset as he ever got to see her in tears. Barbara wasn't the weepy type and this was more than he could deal with.

Roy went ballistic when he heard about Laura's appearance at the precinct house and told Dick in twelve different ways that he was a fucking idiot and the bitch should be locked up either in jail in a nut house, he didn't care which.

Garth offered Dick and Barbara a few weeks, a month, whatever they wanted, on his island in the South Pacific so they could get away and Dick was about to accept when he was informed by the Captain that he had used his vacation time and could suck it up.

Finally the week of Laura's incarceration was up and her father came to get her. She had been held at a different facility than a local precinct house and Dick didn't see her leave, though he was copied on the release orders.

The Woodward's took the next flight back to O'Hare and Dick was told—though he was dubious—that this was the end of the problem.

The first few weeks after she left he found himself hesitant about looking through his mail, both at home and at work. He would look up suddenly when he saw a slight blonde woman go by on the street or in a store or a restaurant and he became even more protective of Barbara. He stopped by every night at her place, even if he couldn't stay, to make sure that all the locks were set and that all the alarms were armed. Against his base beliefs and over Barb's objections, he bought her a handgun and made her practice with it. She kept it in a pocket of her chair and hated it.

He was waiting for the shoe to drop and the suspense built.

Weeks went by then a month, then two months and he heard nothing.

There were no letters, no calls, no presents. Nothing.

His friends received no threats and Bruce's mail was free of anything as well.

He was still convinced that it was just a waiting game, almost a chess match and he caught himself looking over his shoulder as he walked down the street or got on his bike and tensing when he checked his phone messages—but there was still nothing. Barbara's van was replaced and he made sure that it was locked up in a secure garage when it wasn't in actual use.

He had all the locks and phone numbers changed.

The spring ended and for the first time in seven years or more, there was no birthday present or card from Laura. Summer was quiet and he took Barbara up to Bruce's place on the Maine shore for an idyllic two weeks.

Fall started early and crime went down when the weather turned really cold for a few nights. The homeless numbers were growing and the shelters were overcrowded.

Still there was no word and Dick started, slowly, to relax. He no longer thought about Laura every day, though it was uncommon for more than two or three to go by without her crossing his mind.

He spent Christmas back at the Manor with Bruce and Alfred. Barbara was with him and they shared his old room with no raised eyebrows. Tim was there and Jim Gordon came by several times for dinner.

He thought seriously about asking Barbara to marry him, but somehow wasn't sure if it was the right time and so held off. They were good together as they were, no sense rocking the boat. Dick told Roy about his thinking about getting married and, expecting a smart-ass remark, was genuinely pleased when he just said, "She's alright, Dick. You're good for each other and you'll be happy with her—you deserve it, man." Soon. Not quite yet.

About a month after the holidays he was late from work. A pileup on the interstate caused delays and there had been a lot of injuries and detours had to be set up and worked. He let himself into the Clocktower around two in the morning, too tired to go out as Nightwing and knowing it was too cold for most criminals anyway.

She had left a counter light on for him in the kitchen like she usually did, knowing how often he came by.

He stopped in to get a quick something, a cookie or a piece of cheese and saw the newspaper obviously left out for him and folded to the right page. It was a copy of the Chicago Sun Times, dated last spring, almost ten months earlier. The story was minor and buried on page twenty-seven.

"_**The body of a young woman was recovered early this morning from the tracks of the switching station on the North side. In what authorities are terming an apparent suicide, Laura Woodward, 23, of Joliet, was struck and killed late last night..."**_

He turned out the light and instead of going straight in to the darkened bedroom, found himself sitting on the living room couch, one knee drawn up, thinking about the wasted life and it's violent end. It was almost inevitable, really, and he had half expected that something like this would happen sooner or later—but it was still a shock.

He thought about what she had put him through over the last seven, almost eight years and was surprised that he didn't hate her.

The only thing he felt was tremendous sadness for her and what she might have done or been if her life hadn't taken the wrong turn it had. He was past the anger. It was pointless now.

She tried to kill two women he loved, both Kory and Barbara; she burned down one of his homes—short lived though it was. She almost killed him and caused him what could have been a permanent injury. She followed him, harassed him, ruined more dinners and trips and simple evenings at home than he could count. He couldn't remember the last time he looked through his mail and not dreaded the possibility of finding another pink envelope from her in the stack. She upset his family and his friends, as well as her own and all because she thought she was in love with him.

He wondered—he'd wondered on and off for years—if there was more he could have done to help her, to get her more or better treatment or could have somehow made her understand enough to leave him alone, to build her own life without him.

Maybe there was more he could have done but—and this was the thing—he was the victim here. She was sick, of course she was, but he paid almost as much because of her illness as she had. The difference being that he was strong enough to deal with what she put him through and she never could.

Maybe if her parent's had seen her more clearly sooner, maybe if they hadn't made excuses or misplaced blame...

Shoulda, woulda, coulda.

He'd call her parents' or write them, tell them how genuinely sorry he was about the way things had turned out. He wasn't sure if they would want to hear from him, but perhaps they would. He'd make the effort in a day or so. Not now. He'd want to think about what he'd write to them because right now he had no idea.

Barbara wheeled herself over to the couch and brushed the hair away from his eyes, turning the familiar gesture into a caress. He hadn't even heard her, wrapped up in his own thoughts.

"Are you alright?"

He nodded, took her hand and stood then pushed her back to their bedroom.

It was over.

The End

19


End file.
